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What's Mine
Dean Winchester x Reader
You and Dean have been tiptoeing around each other for weeks until you run into your ex on a hunt and Dean makes it a point to let it be known he isn't giving up what's his..you
The breath was knocked out of you when your back hit the dirt, Dean's body on top of yours was a familiar weight and he'd somehow supported your head to keep your neck from slamming at a weird angle when the two of you landed.
“You ok?” He asked breathlessly and you managed a smile “Had worse” you felt the heat of the flame from the open grave hit your side and knew Sam had torched the bones. Good thing too that damn ghost had tossed you and Dean both like a frigging ragdoll.
“You two good?” Sam called out and Dean who was still currently on top of you smirked “Been in a lot worse positions” you rolled your eyes and shoved him in the chest “Shut up and get off me Winchester” he got to his feet and helped you to yours before grabbing his chest playfully “Oh come on sweetheart. You're killing me here. You know you want me”
You felt your face warm at his teasing. Did you want him? Hell yes, who wouldn't? Did you have no clue where he stood due to months of flirting, light touches and getting so comfortable with each other you regularly ended up in each other's beds if one of you had a bad night.
“Oh yes. Let me ravage you in the middle of this graveyard covered in dirt and ectoplasm” you shot back and he grinned “Oh I'd take ya anyway I could have ya” you rolled your eyes and walked over to the grave where Sam was already filling in the hole and picked up a shovel. Dean joined the two of you and in no time the grave was back covered.
You looked from Sam to Dean “I need a shower” you announced only to be met with Sam saying he needed food and Dean saying he needed a drink. You laughed “There's a bar not far from our hotel. Sign boasted the best wings as voted by some traveling foodie. Let's hit the showers then we can grab some food and a few drinks before we hit the hay”
Dean grinned “That's my girl” and Sam shook his head “You two need to get a room” Sam was sick of the little dance you and Dean were stuck in as much as you were but you refused to make the first move. You knew how Dean was when it came to commitment.
You'd known both brothers for years and had started hunting with them full time after Bobby died then moved into the bunker full time after your last breakup.Sam was your best friend. You loved them both and refused to let your feelings for Dean come between that. He'd eventually make his feelings known, wouldn't he?
You walked in the bar between Sam and Dean, feeling Dean's hand at your lower back. It was a habit he'd long since started doing. Whether it was when the three of you were on a hunt, you went to the grocery store with him or something as simple as walking in a bar. When you'd asked him about it hoping he'd use the opportunity to admit anything he'd instead told you that he just liked to keep a hand on you. Something about in public places it keeping any pervs from thinking about looking your way.
You tried to ignore the instinct to lean into his touch. Was it possible he didn't want you like you wanted him? Maybe he really did just see you as a good friend and you were reading too much into things.
—--------------
Dean felt your back tense under his hand as Sam cleared the way to a booth on the back wall. “You good sweetheart?” He asked, leaning down so you could hear him over the music. You nodded but didn't give a verbal response. He was sure he'd blocked your head from taking a blow but maybe your back or ribs had taken a hit you hadn't admitted to?
He'd make a point to ask you before all of you settled down for the night back at the hotel.
He watched as you sat down on one of the benches then looked between him and Sam “Who's going to the bar?” He raised his hand slightly “you want your usual?” You nodded “Yes please” when you gave him a small smile he felt one slip onto his face in return but didn't miss Sam rolling his eyes. His little brother had been on his ass for weeks. The last threat had been “If you don't make a move I'm gonna start hitting on her for you. It's pathetic man”
—-------------
After Sam had eaten an extraordinary amount of wings for his usual appetite and you and Dean had split an order of mozzarella sticks you had gotten up to go to the bathroom. Normally one or both of them would walk you and wait outside the door but this once you'd convinced them to let you go alone.
When you got back out of the bathroom you saw that both of them had gone to the bar so you headed that way. You were almost to them when you heard a voice call your name you froze dead in your tracks, you'd recognize that voice anywhere. Your ex boyfriend Dominic.
The same ex boyfriend who'd broken up with you because “Ain't no way you're not sleeping with one of the Winchesters. They've never made a habit of working with any other hunter with the exception of Bobby yet you're always welcome to join them”
You turned to see him walking towards you. He was a fairly good looking guy. He was about six foot, dark brown hair and bright blue eyes. You'd been hurt when he accused you but now there was a whole different level to that hurt considering it seemed the Winchester that you did now have feelings for would never want you.
“Hey Dom” you greeted with a smile. “How ya been?” He asked and you shrugged “You know the life, still breathing so I'd call it a win”
—------------
Sam knew you should be out of the bathroom by now. He had hoped Dean would use the night out to admit his feelings. He turned to look around for you and spotted you talking to someone, no not someone your ex. That was Dominic. This should be interesting.
He glanced at Dean, trying to consider if he wanted to do this or not but then he saw your shoulders tense and knew you well enough to know when you needed a rescue. “Isn't that Dom?” He asked if off handedly but Dean spun around fast enough a few people looked their way. “Yeah it is”
The muscle in Dean's jaw was clenched hard watching you talk to your ex and Sam knew it was now or never. “She doesn't look too comfortable. Maybe one of us should go over there?” He stood like he was going to but Dean grabbed his shoulder “Let me”
—-----------------
What had started off as friendly enough turned not so friendly the moment Dom noticed Sam and Dean at the bar “Which one is it?” “Which one is what?” You asked because you honestly had no idea what he meant. “Which Winchester are you fucking?”
Before you could open your mouth to respond you felt a strong set of arms slip around your waist and heard Dean's voice say “That would be me. Why? You got a problem with it?” You cut your eyes up at him so he used that moment to bring one hand up to cup your chin and when his lips met yours the entire bar could've caught fire for all you cared.
You'd thought of kissing Dean so many times, dreamt of it but good lord the real thing couldn't be described. He rolled his tongue against yours, exploring your mouth and letting you taste the bourbon he'd drank. His hand moved to the back of your head, holding you in place as he deepened the kiss. You felt heat roll through your stomach as he pulled away from you leaving another light kiss on your lips before turning his eyes back to Dom.
“What was the issue of who she's with? Didn't you break up with her?” You could hear the venom in Dean's voice and felt his arms tighten around you protectively. This was new.
Dom shrugged “Yeah I broke up with her because I figured either you or your brother was fucking her” his eyes slid down to you then back up to Dean before he added “Or both of ya”
You felt Dean tense and knew you needed to diffuse the situation. Dom was strong, yeah but Dean was on an entire different level. He could easily kill him and not break a sweat. You gripped Dean's arms to stop him from moving “Baby,let's get Sammy and leave” you hoped you using a pet name for him that you normally wouldn't might get through his head.
He nodded “Yeah. Let's get back to the hotel” he slipped his arms from around you and grabbed your hand instead, lacing his fingers with yours. You took a few steps away and thought that was it, that Dom would use what brain cells he had and let it go. Instead he said “Does she still make that little sound right before she…”
He didn't get a chance to finish the sentence. Dean had dropped your hand and landed a solid punch before you could blink. Fuck. “SAM!” You shouted over the quickly growing crowd.
You didn't want to get close enough to get caught in the crosshair. Dean would be careful of you but add in enough drunks and adrenaline and accidents happen. “I got him” You heard Sam's voice before you saw him grab Dean's shoulder, ducking the thrown punch “C'mon he ain't worth it”
Dean looked up and met your gaze. You saw him take a deep breath then nod. “Yeah let's go” he reached for your hand and you gave it to him. Sam handed the nearest waitress a few twenties but by that time some drunks had helped Dom to his feet. He was holding his broken nose “So i was right. She's been fucking you”
You squeezed Dean's hand, silently begging him to not be baited. He pulled you into his side then turned to face Dom. “If I would've had her in my bed back then she would've kicked you to the curb long before you split and for the record she doesn't make any small noise with me” you felt your face warm when a chorus of “Ooohhs” went through the bar.
You spotted the bouncer headed in your direction and Dean must have too because he waved towards the door “I'm leaving. I'm leaving. This asshole needed to learn some manners”
The short ride to the motel had been in silence. You followed Sam into the room and headed for the door adjoining your room to theirs.
—-------------
You felt Dean grab your hand before you made it to the door “Can we talk?” You cut your eyes at Sam then nodded “Yeah. Come on” you walked into your room and waited until you heard Dean close the door to turn and face him.
“I'm sorry you were put in that position to have to defend me” You blurted out and he looked stunned for a minute then shook his head “I'm not. That guy's a fucking asshole. He never deserved you” you smiled slightly “Helluva punch and helluva kiss”
He smirked “I meant it” “The punch?” You asked and he rolled his eyes “The kiss you brat” you grinned “Oh really? What about the she doesn't make any small sound with me part?”
He pushed off the door, walking towards you with almost a predatory look. The same thing that made demons run the opposite direction had the ability to make your knees weak in the best way. “That sounds like you're doubting my abilities sweetheart?” You shrugged nonchalantly despite your heart pounding in your throat “Not like you've made a move to show me your abilities”
—--------------
He stopped just shy of touching you “Let me make myself clear if we do this that's it. You're mine, I'm yours. I don't want one night or just sex. I want all of you” “Good” you replied and that was all it took. He closed the space between you and if you thought the kiss in the bar was something it had nothing compared to the way his lips crashed against yours in a bruising, hungry kiss.
He backed you up to the bed and the moment the back of your legs hit it he eased you back on it, never breaking the kiss even as he hovered over you. Once the need for air forced you apart his lips moved across your jaw then down your neck “I've wanted you for so long” he spoke against your skin and you practically melted on the spot. “I'm yours Dean. I've been yours” you whispered and he groaned “Gonna be the death of me”
His hands gripped your shirt and before you could protest he ripped it right down the middle bearing your covered breasts to him. He bit down on one of them and when you moaned and arched your back he slipped his hands under you to relieve you of the bra as well, throwing it across the room. He looked down at you and the look in his eyes made your heart flip “You're so damn beautiful” he murmured before crashing his lips against yours again.
Your hands found his shirt so he broke the kiss long enough to slip it off and throw it, giving you access to his skin. Your hands smoothed over his chest, tracing the tattoo and small scars littered around it that even angelic healing didn't get rid of.
“I need more of you, please” he begged and you fucking whimpered hearing Dean Winchester sound that wrecked. “You have all of me Dean” you whispered and he left another searing kiss against your lips before moving down your body.
He slipped your boots off along with your jeans then panties leaving you bare to him before settling between your legs. He didn't give you time to adjust before his mouth found your core. The first lick was tentative, testing but when your hips bucked up into him he damn near growled before pinning your lower body down with one arm and diving in like a man starved.
—--------------
You were quivering under Dean. He'd already worked one orgasm out of you with his tongue alone and now had added two fingers into you as well. You were so close to that edge again and damn him he knew just what you needed. He turned his wrist to find that spot deep inside of you, running his fingertips over it as he sucked your clit into his mouth and you came again with a scream of his name on your lips.
Once you came down from that high you shoved weakly at his head “Please Dean, too much” he left one final kiss against your clit before leaning back to grin up at you “Worth the wait?” You nodded weakly “Please take your pants off and get up here”
He stood and slipped his boots, jeans and boxers off before crawling up your body, kissing and licking every inch of skin he could on the way up. When he crashed his lips against yours you could taste yourself on him and felt yourself clench especially when he moved to your neck to work your pulse point with his tongue and teeth.
“Dean, I will return the favor next time but please get inside me” He grinned against your skin “Yes ma'am” you felt the head of his cock teasing at your entrance and rolled your hips up towards him. He slid in slowly, a low moan leaving you both at the feeling of him stretching you.
Once you adjusted to his size you tapped his shoulder “You can move” he gave a thrust and when your hands went to his shoulders, nails digging in, he groaned “That's my girl” before setting a punishing pace.
—------------
You were folded damn near in half, your legs on Dean's shoulders as he pounded into you. You felt tears forming in the corner of your eyes from being pushed to that delicious line between pleasure and pain.
Your legs were shaking, your whole body felt like it was made of liquid. You'd never had this many orgasms fucked out of you and it seemed like he was aiming for one more before he let himself come. “Dean please. I can't take any more” you begged and he kissed your cheek “One more baby. Please. You've got one more for me”
His fingers slipped between you, rubbing tight circles on your clit and you felt that pressure burst again,your vision going soft from the pleasure coursing through you. His thrusts started getting uneven and you knew he was close. “Fuck Dean. You feel so damn amazing. Please come for me, fill me up” you sobbed, fucked senseless.
He groaned,burying his face in your neck as he gave one final hard thrust and you felt when he came deep inside of you.
—----------------
He slowly eased your legs down but stayed inside of you as you both worked to get your breathing back to normal. When he pulled out he apologized at the low whine you gave before going to grab a warm rag to clean you both up.
After he was sure you were cleaned up and didn't need anything else he climbed into bed next to you and pulled you over on his chest. “No regrets on wanting me?” He asked and you felt your heart jump at the uncertainty in his voice despite having just fucked you senseless. You leaned up to look up at him “Why? You already sick of me?” You teased and his eyes narrowed “Don't even woman”
You laughed lightly “I'm sure Dean. You're who I want” “Good, because I'd hate to have to kill anyone who tried to take you from me” you shook your head “Not happening Winchester. You're stuck with me” He pulled you back on his chest and left a kiss on your head before saying “I've been stuck in a lot worse positions than having you in my arms”
#dean winchester smut#supernatural fanfiction#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester fanfiction#dean winchester x female!reader#spn fanfiction
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EVERY MINUTE OF IT
Characters/Pairings: Alpha!Bucky x Female!Omega!Reader Word Count: 4k Summary: Claimed unequivocally by Alpha Bucky Barnes, leader of the growing HYDRA faction, that's not the end of it. But what exactly is in store for you? What will it mean to be his Omega?
Content/Warnings: omegaverse; reluctant attraction; power dynamics; mild manipulation; threats; dirty talk; explicit smut: spanking, vaginal fingering, biting, rough sex, choking, edging, orgasm denial, slapping, spitting, oral (male and female receiving), unprotected vaginal intercourse and insemination, dacryphilia, overstimulation, erotic picture taking
Author Notes: Part three to what I never planned on being a series - the Alpha Bucky April drabble was only 500 words, the next part hit 1.5k, but this... well, let's just say this Bucky absolutely had his way with both me and my muse. This one will be a make up to tick orgasm delay/denail for MARCH of @buckybarnesevents Build a Bucky Bingo ; and the dialogue, alpha, and pet prompts for the second week of Hot Bucky Summer (thought this was going to be a short little thing I was going to whip out before week two had finished, but alas hahaha).
A/N 2: We've seen only a bit of his rough side up to this pont, but in this part we will truly see mean Alpha Bucky. Don't say I didn't warn you - here and with the actual content warning list.
A/N 3: I tried not to write any plot with this porn, but a minimal amount forced its way in.
He had made good on his threat, using your body for pleasure and for show under the full moon until there was no one left to watch, but you were not sure he had been keeping close track, instead merely taking you over and over until they grey hours of dawn. You had been too exhausted to register anything much after that – being carried away, a car ride, being tucked into a bed.
You had woken up in the afternoon alone.
Alone for the first time in three days.
On hearing you make your way to the bathroom someone had brought in water and left an impressive spread of food that lasted you through the afternoon and evening. You grazed and slept.
Your body and mind had been pushed beyond all previous limits, and so the sleep and rest had been most of those first few days after the full moon and the conqueror’s bonding ritual.
But now, a week on, you are tired, restless, and impatient.
You were in a spacious penthouse, you had been offered many luxuries, well fed by a personal chef, attended to by an assistant, your only restrictions being denied access to a phone or internet and barred from leaving the premises.
Should you have chosen an unplugged retreat or vacation, it would be perfect.
After contemplating and debating internally all morning, at lunch you make your decision. You finish yet another delicious meal, wipe your mouth with the beautiful linen napkin, and then set it down next to the bone china and plated gold utensils. The staff begins to move around you, and your assistant approaches.
Before she can say anything else, you take a deep breath and say, “I need to see him.”
There’s no question of who you mean.
She nods. “I’ll make the request.”
Whether pet or prisoner and left alone for more than seven days, you do not believe your request will be seen as any sort of priority, so when you see the more formal dining table set for two for dinner, your mouth drops open for a moment, and you stop in your tracks.
You turn to your assistant – even though she tries to afford you most of your privacy, she is ever on the edge of your presence. She looks as surprised as you. “I was given no response other than that they’d take the request under consideration.”
You nod, then pace, padding barefoot across the hardwood floor in front of floor-to-ceiling windows, until you finally hear the rustle and then commotion of activity that announces his arrival.
Your heart races, but it’s only a few more moments before the large and imposing alpha, Bucky Barnes, appears in front of you.
“Omega,” he says with a mere nod of his head, no pretense.
Your eyes narrow a fraction, wary of his seemingly easy demeanor. “Alpha.”
“Shall we?” he asks, and motions to the table.
You nod and take a seat as he does.
Within seconds, the meal is brought in by two attendants and the chef, and Bucky thanks and praises them very simply.
He occasionally looks at you, regarding you, but does not speak.
Before long, you huff, and he looks up sharply, pinning you with his steel blue eyes, harsher than at any point since he’d arrived. “What?” he demands.
“What is all of this?” you start, gesturing your hand to indicate the penthouse. “And where have you been?”
He sets down his knife and fork and straightens a little more. “Is it not to suited to your liking? You can change anything you want. This is your place.”
“My place?” you ask.
“Yes, your place. It is not far from the place I’ve taken up residence.”
The revelation is not surprising, but somehow more irritating. “And what? You’ve had me and now you’re discarding me?”
“I should have thought you’d want your own place.”
Maybe you should want your own place, away from him. And yet…
“I should be wherever you are.”
“What?” he scoffs. “So you can be embroiled in my affairs and bring me down? ‘Keep your friends close and your enemies closer?’”
The accusation wounds you, though you know it’s only logical – and you know what you’re thinking and feeling isn’t logical. You have determined to put off thinking about it.
“I’m not your friend,” you state, trying to keep your voice as even as possible. “but I’m not your enemy either.”
“What should I call you then?” he challenges.
You raise your chin a fraction. “I’m your Omega.”
He doesn’t speak or move immediately. Instead, his eyes somehow fix you even more intently. There’s a burning in your chest under his scrutiny, but you remain still.
Finally, he stands and moves toward you, the two of you never taking your eyes off the other.
“You are my Omega.”
He comes to stand behind your chair, and you remain unmoving. He takes your chin in his left hand and tilts your head to expose your neck to him. He leans down and noses along your jaw, inhaling your scent and putting your body on alert. You feel the curling tendrils of want stir in your core, already awakening for him. He tilts your head even more and draws his teeth along the side of your throat, causing a shiver you can’t suppress, and he chuckles darkly and licks at the fresher of the two bonding marks he gave you. His hot tongue, insistently pressing at the bite elicits a small noise from you, and your right hand shoots up to card into his hair. Your full omega side wants him, has started to slicken your pussy for him already, you can feel it. You know your alpha can smell it.
He bites over the mark, but not roughly enough to break the skin, and you arch up for more, but he pushes himself back up, away from you and the crook of your neck.
“So needy,” he remarks, “I like this.”
The first few days you’d spent with him, he’d kept you full of his cock, tortured with pleasure, overwhelmed, exhausted by him and the recipient of a seemingly insatiable lust unleashed on you.
This feels like the predator is going to play with his prey, and you bite your lip. He pushes your head, tilted to the left, to the right to drop into his other hand, clearly testing your compliance. It’s gentle, but it’s dominant. Back to the left, then to the right, and then he dips to nip at your ear, and you gasp.
Bucky releases your head from between his large hands then pulls your chair away from the table. “Up.”
You stand. He puts one hand on your hip and ushers you around the edge of the table and to the side, in the middle, and turns you to face the wide expanse of mahogany and its centerpiece of fresh flowers – white peonies, white roses, white hydrangeas.
“Put your hands on the table,” he instructs.
You press the palms of your hands onto the smooth, dark wood. Your omega side is ready – even eager – to comply, but with your own long game to play, you know you must play out whatever game he desires now.
“Arch your back,” is his next direction.
Keeping your breathing even, you do, hips jutting away from the table, on display for him.
The back of his hand lands at the nape of your neck, and he drags his knuckles slowly down your spine. Your body rocks back, seeking more, as he reaches the small of your back, and he hums in self-satisfaction.
While his vibranium hand plants itself on your hip, he moves the other around to skim slowly over your stomach, then up your rib cage, and to your breast. He gropes the round flesh through your shirt and bra, but the fabric does nothing to quell how the pressure stokes the fire growing in you.
You feel the heat of him press up your back as his hand moves now up your neck, turning your head to kiss him. You push back against him, and he ruts his bulge slightly into your ass. Your lips are hungry in the kiss, but it’s like he only provided his lips for you to kiss him, receiving what your lips want to give. He moves his hand back down to your chest, but this time slipping beneath the neckline and going flesh to flesh to palm your breast. He kneads diligently, almost methodically, and you know all of this is designed to warm you up, tease you, get you burning for him. He’s still largely a stranger to you, but you also know you can’t resist him. He’s spent so much time already playing with your body. He knows where and how to touch you to make you respond to him after those first days and nights spent naked with him.
Bucky moves again, ending the kiss, drawing away from your back and removing the hand from your breast. You whine, but that hand goes to the small of your back again, the vibranium hand squeezing your hip as he forces you spine to resume the curving posture for him once more.
“We’re only getting started, Omega. Be patient.”
You huff, and he laughs.
The fingers of both his hands slip into the top of your waistband. He slowly pulls your pants and underwear down over your hips, and down your legs to mid-thigh. It restricts your bottom extremities, and that plays into the mental game he’s clearly playing with you. His hands move up the back of your naked thighs, and then palms your ass with both hands. He squeezes both cheeks, goes back to palming them again, then withdraws his right hand and slaps that cheek harshly. You jump and yelp, but he merely goes back to palming and squeezing, soothing the smacked flesh. Then another slap, and you hiss at the sting over the first sting. His vibranium hand continues groping your round flesh, but instead of soothing the second smack, his flesh hand dips down to your dripping hole, where he inserts two fingers, then quickly adds a third.
“Alpha,” you moan, and your head falls back, eyes closed both to hold back a couple of tears and to soak in the barrage of sensations.
He doesn’t answer, but his fingers continue dipping in and out, slow and shallow.
He delivers another harsh slap, immediately returns to the maddening fingering until you’re keening and trying to hump his hand.
Abruptly he grips your hips with both hands and turns you around to face him. The cool metal hand grips you by the neck, tilting your face up helplessly to him, and this kiss is messy, demanding, teeth nipping at your lips. You kiss him back as well as you can as he is in full control of your head and holds you where he wants you. Both your hands hold tightly to his forearm, and you squeeze.
His other hand goes to the cut of you again below, but there’s more fervor there this time. He plunders your mouth and plunders your pussy, and you’re losing your breath, but you have no wish for him to relent as you feel the powerful orgasm you crave building and barreling towards you. His fingers curl against the spongy spot on your inner wall, this thumb is demanding against your pulsing clit, and his tongue is licking dominantly into your mouth. You’re trembling and clutching at him, moaning, only when your breath hitches, inches away from bliss, he pulls back.
You cry out as he looms over you. His smirk is cruel, and his eyes spark with fire.
“Alpha!”
He licks his one of his fingers, just one.
“Alpha, please,” you groan.
“My well-mannered Omega,” he coos. “We’ll make a mess of you yet,” he says. You’re unsure whether it’s a threat or a promise, but you have no space or time to think as he moves you again, hoisting and pushing you by the grip on your chin around and away from the table until your back is flush against the wall.
Bucky pushes you down to your knees, pinches your mouth open, then spits on your tongue. "Swallow it."
You don’t think, just swallow as his eyes bore into yours as he towers over you.
He strokes his thumb over your cheek – nearly a caress, and you can’t help leaning ever so slightly into his touch. Then his thumb moves from your cheek to your lips, tracing them before pressing down to open your mouth again. He inserts two of the fingers that had been in your cunt into your mouth, and you close your mouth and begin to suck without him having to say so. The look on his face shows his approval. As you suck, there’s something so soothing about, the weight of his fingers pressing down on your tongue, the stead rhythm, that it that lulls you even further into a state of submission for him. Your eyes begin to droop.
He chuckles and withdraws his fingers, wiping them on your face. “Don’t want that so soon in our evening.”
He begins to unbuckle his belt, and you reach for the button and zipper, but he bats your hands away and slaps your cheek.
You look up sharply at him, reaching to soothe your cheek.
“Ask nicely for your Alpha’s cock, Omega.”
His first nights with you were about physical domination. This is the other half, yielding, submission.
You think best how to ask, before saying, “Please let me put my lips around your cock, Alpha.”
He unbuttons his trousers but keeps his eyes on yours. “Tell me how you want me to use your mouth, Omega,”
“I…” you bite your lip. You aren’t a stranger to sex, but speaking so directly about it isn’t something you’ve done with any of your partners in the past.
Bucky lowers the zipper. He pushes the band of his boxers down far enough to free his cock, and you whimper. He fists his arousal slowly. “You want it, then tell me what you want exactly. You’ve already let me use your body in so many ways, we both know you want more. What are you craving?”
You wait only another beat before answering, “Want you to fuck my throat.”
You are impressed at the evenness of your own tone in that moment, and his lips tick up as well.
Bucky widens his stance, then leans down to wrap his left arm around your head, holding it – almost cradling it – in the crook of his elbow. The he pushes his cock to your lips, you open for him, he pushes in, and starts truly fucking your mouth. The first few thrusts are slow, but insistent. He fills your mouth with more of him with each of those first thrusts. Then the head of his cock hits the back of your throat. He thrusts out and in again, again, again. His other hand strokes your cheek. Then he slaps it, and you groan around his cock.
“Mmmm, fuck you feel good,” he echoes your groan. “Gonna take all of your alpha’s cock down this pretty throat,” he says, and his hand moves down to your neck, feeling himself push in there.
Your eyes are tearing up, and the tears quickly start to spill over as he continues to use your throat, never removing himself completely now that he’s overtaken your mouth. He slaps your cheek twice in quick succession and you sob around his cock as you can manage. It’s hard to breathe, and your chest heaves. You brace yourself against his thighs, and he straightens and pulls out of you.
Bucky moves quickly, taking you by the shoulders and tossing you into the middle of the floor – rough but not violent.
“Clothes off,” he barks, but it’s he didn’t need to employ an alpha command to get you to comply. You barely have enough time to discard your pants and underwear the rest of the way, and only manage to get your shirt over your head in the time it takes him to get naked.
He’s on you the next instant, covering your body with his. With his chest pressed down against yours, you feel how his breathing is just as heavy as your own, glad he’s not as unaffected as he’s tried to play this encounter.
You hitch your thighs up around his torso and squeeze your knees around him.
But he doesn’t give you what you’re most anxious for yet, instead pausing to study your face.
“Such a pretty mess,” he admires.
Heat pulses through your body, his praise undeniable to your omega side.
He dips his head to lap up the salt of some of your tears, tongue dragging slowly up your cheek. When he draws back again, he merely looks at you. His eyes seem to be looking for something, but you don’t know what. You try not to give him anything outside of this moment.
His pelvis is lodged between your hips, so you squirm beneath him, hoping your hot, dripping cunt will call him back to your pressing needs. He groans and drops his forehead to yours, another sign he’s not as cool and detached as he was at the outset.
“Please, please fuck me, Alpha,” you beg.
“Fill you up with my cock? With my seed?”
“Yes, Alpha!”
He draws his hips back and you reach down and help line up his cock with your hole. He spears in with no mercy, and you don’t need or want it. You groan together as he fills you completely.
Your mouths meet again, and it’s a combination of rough messy kisses, nipping and bites, licking, mingled heavy breaths. It’s primal and unhinged, and there’s no thought to it as he continues to fuck you.
The pace at which he thrusts is relentless and just what you need, but also not enough.
You want more and you whimper and beg through kissing for it.
Bucky continues fucking you and pulls away from your lips, but in no way is he done overwhelming you. Leaning heavily onto his vibranium arm planted next to your head, he moves his other arm and presses his inner wrist up and down your neck insistently. The sound that escapes your mouth is broken and needy as the flooding of his scent directly In and around you engulfs your senses. Then he’s also sucking on your original bonding mark until you are a heaving, panting, crying mess, clawing at his back, unable to even put coherent words together to beg for him.
His shifts just enough that his pubic bone grinds down against your clit as he pounds into your pussy. You are practically vibrating with the impending orgasm, and as your alpha can undoubtedly sense that through the bond, he bites down on your mark, and you scream and fly into your release. Your walls clench hard around him, and he growls through two more powerful thrusts before he shouts, and you feel the heat of his seed star to fill you up. He pumps and pumps until he’s left every drop he can inside of you, then collapses on top of you.
He doesn’t move, pressing you down with all his weight as you both recover from the ecstasy you’ve just experienced. You almost move to stroke your fingers up and down his spine, but you quell that impulse. You do allow yourself to keep your hands on his back though – still, but connected to this man, your alpha, who dealt you such rough but undeniable pleasure.
Finally, Bucky pushes up off you, but surprises you when he scoops you up and carries you away bridal style, heading toward your bedroom.
“Alpha?”
“You really want to live under the same roof?” he asks.
“Yes,” you answer simply.
He glances down at your face, brows furrowed, then looks back ahead as he heads down the hallway.
“Okay then.”
“Yes?”
“Yes,” he affirms, entering your room.
He tosses you onto the bed, and crawls up over you again. He reaches beneath your back to unclasp your bra, and you let him pull it from your shoulders and toss it off to the side. Closing the gap between your bodies, you relish the feeling of his bare chest against yours, his chest hair teasing your nipples. He grips your chin yet again, this time with his vibranium hand, and looks into your eyes with a steely, cold stare.
“If you’re anything other than the good omega I require, I will send you back here, but it won’t be like this last week has been. You will be in absolute exile. Don’t test me – there will be no chances.”
You give a single nod of your head.
He pushes up and leans back then, kneeling above you.
“But you don’t want to jeopardize or risk that, do you?”
“No, Bucky.”
It’s the first time you’ve called him anything other than alpha and he clocks that, you see the flash of acknowledgement in his eyes.
“You want to be with your alpha, you want the limited freedom you know I can give you if I choose to, but you also have your own agenda”
It wasn’t a question, and you know you can’t fool him – you know he is too smart for that, and you know he knows you are intelligent in your own right. He made it clear when he closed in on your people’s territory that’s why your compliance and claiming you as his omega was part of the deal of surrender to spare any more bloodshed.
“Cross me and your future will only be visitations when I require you to service my ruts.”
You don’t doubt his threat.
“Do we have an accord, Omega?”
“Yes, Alpha.”
The words you two exchanged the fateful night of that initial surrender.
He nods.
“It seems fitting to seal it by kiss.”
You sit up and then kneel before him on the bed, he bends his head down to kiss you. It’s fervent, solemn, but he cuts it off before it develops into anything more.
“Stay here,” he orders, sliding off the bed.
That was an alpha command – wholly unnecessary except to remind you of his power.
You scowl at his retreating form, then huff once he’s out of the room.
He’s quick, and when he comes back in the room, he is slowly stroking his cock with one hand, and holds his phone in the other. He steps up to the edge of the bed.
“A kiss here, as well,” he says, pushing his hips forward.
You crawl to him, lower your head, and kiss his cock. He nods at you, indicating he expects more. You take the tip of his semi-hard cock into your mouth, lave your tongue around the tip, and then suck, looking up at him. He takes a few photos, moaning at your ministrations.
“Fuck you couldn’t look more pretty and more ruined,” he whispers. He tosses the phone down, then pushes you off him and back onto the bed, manhandling your hips to get you planted in the center of the mattress with your thighs splayed open obscenely.
“Only fair for me to finish sealing the agreement and kiss these lips as well.”
He dives in like a man starved, despite the rounds you’ve just finished. He pulls your next orgasm quickly from your fluttering pussy. You would be surprised, only you’ve come to accept that he has already acquired a dangerous – and delicious – knowledge of your body.
He looks up at you and grins and then goes in immediately for another.
You try and push him away and close your legs, feeling overstimulated, but he growls and roughly forces your thighs open again.
“Your one chance of being my good omega is already begun. So, you’re going to let me eat the pussy that belongs to me until you’re a sobbing overstimulated mess and think you can’t possibly take any more, but you will. And since this should be the last night we ever spend in this bed, when I’ve had my fill of lapping at your sweet, dripping cunt, I’m going to see if I can’t fuck you hard and long enough to break the bed.”
You can only hope your gamble to deal with the devil of HYDRA will not be your undoing.
↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest full Fine Line Collection
Everyone check your pulse, please. Mine is gone.
I'm not saying this is officially a series, but I think we HAVE fallen into a collection territory... Unless y'all are through with this Alpha Bucky...
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes smut#alpha bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fanfic#female reader#aspen wrote something#fine line collection
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Self Control: Part Nine - Babymoon
Jessie Fleming x Reader
Summary: Jessie takes you up to Canada to visit her family and for a relaxing trip out to cottage country. Her parents are thrilled to see you and to - technically - meet their first grandchild. The problem? They just won't leave you two alone.
Warnings: G!P sex. Masturbation (r), fingering, oral, g!p penetrative sex, preg and breeding kinks, dirty talk, language.
A/N: J and R are horny, y'all. The rest of the series can be found here.
“I used to play hockey at that arena. The locker rooms were terrible. Oh, and I used to run track over there. And you see that store down the way - it used to be this little hobby shop and my dad used to take me there sometimes to buy models or crafts.”
Jessie pointed enthusiastically out the windows of the rental car as she drove you both to her parents’ home from the airport. She’d brought you to her childhood home a handful of times by now, but she never tired of showing you the sights even if you’d seen them all before.
“You’re adorable,” you told her as you watched her affectionately. “And yes dear, I remember. Pregnancy brain hasn’t hit me that hard yet,” you chuckled.
“Oh and that house had the best candy at Halloween,” Jessie went on, undeterred. You laughed.
“Well look at the size of that house. They definitely had full-size-candy-bar money,” you joked.
“I can’t wait until I can take our daughter around town and show her some of these places. And soon enough she’ll have memories like these of her own.”
You smiled softly at her, kissing her hand before resting it on your belly.
“Has she settled a bit?” Jessie asked as she rubbed your bump.
“Yeah, the drive seems to be keeping the activity to a minimum compared to the flight,” you chuckled. “That was the most active she’s ever been. She either loves flying or hates it. Not sure which.”
“Everything seems okay though?” Jessie asked, concern creeping in.
“Yeah, I feel fine. I’m only at 24 weeks, the midwife said I’m well within the safe zone for flying.”
She smiled and relaxed as you gave her arm a reassuring squeeze.
“Alright, we’re here,” Jessie announced as she pulled into the driveway. “I’ll get the bags. You just go in. They said the door’s open. Plus they were probably staring out the window the whole time waiting,” she laughed.
“Their first grandchild is technically visiting,” you said with a smirk. “Of course they’re excited.”
Jessie chuckled. “Yeah, imagine what they’ll be like after she’s born.”
She gave you a peck on the cheek before bounding out of the car and jogging over to your side. She opened your door with a very satisfied smile on her face, counter to the mild glare you gave her. She held out her hand, which you dutifully ignored as you climbed out, somewhat more encumbered than weeks before and it requiring a bit more effort.
“I don’t need help yet,” you said under your breath to her and Jessie just kissed your cheek again. You gave her a teasing look. “You’re just trying to look good in front of your parents.”
“What? I-”
Her words were cut off when her parents opened the door and greeted you both boisterously.
“Oh my gosh,” her mom cooed moments after giving you a hug and immediately had her hands on the swell of your midsection and began asking you rapid-fire questions.
“Mom,” Jessie chided. She was about to interject further when she noticed her dad hauling the bags out of the trunk. “Dad!” She rounded and ended up going shoulder to shoulder with him, jockeying for the leverage and space to grab the bags.
“Oh, you two,” her mom scolded mildly before placing an arm around your back. “Come on, Y/N, let’s get inside. We’ll let these two duke it out.”
After an initial visit with her parents and a quick walk around as they showed you both new things around the house, Jessie and you were free to get settled.
Despite your protests to help, Jessie lugged all of the bags up the stairs to her old bedroom where you’d both be staying.
"Sure you don't want to stay in the guest bedroom?" She asked one final time with a discerning look. It would be much more comfortable. It had a bigger bed and its own bathroom - a very valuable perk as you now got up almost every night to go to the bathroom - but you were insistent on staying in her old room. You said it was sweet being surrounded by remnants of her younger self.
"I'm positive," you said without hesitation as you walked in.
Even though she hadn’t lived at home in many years now, her parents left her room exactly the same. Her old medals and trophies were still there, old pictures and trinkets of hers were still neatly displayed around the room.
“Oh, I love it,” you said as you clasped your hands together under your chin and looked around. “So cute. I can’t get over it,” you said as you held up an old picture of her and some friends. “I really, really hope she has your freckles,” you went on before giving her cheeks a light pinch, and pulling a feigned glower out of her.
“Thanks for being okay stopping here for a few days,” Jessie said as she sat down on the bed. “My parents and grandparents have been begging me to bring you back forever, never mind now,” she said as she pulled you by the hand towards her and kissed your stomach.
“Of course, baby,” you told her as you stroked her face and pushed her hair behind her ear. “I’m happy to be here.”
“The family stuff’s going to be pretty full on, but you’ll get to relax when we head to the cottage, I promise.”
“I’m not worried,” you assured her as you continued to run your fingers through her hair. Jessie lifted your shirt and kissed your stomach furthermore.
“Okay, cool it,” you ordered as you gently pushed her head away. “You know how I’ve been lately. And yeah, not the time and place. Agreed?” You finished with a look of warning.
She sighed heavily as she leaned back on her hands, arms outstretched. “I know,” she said though her gaze lingered on your body. When you folded her arms across yourself, inadvertently emphasizing your growing bust, she belatedly forced herself to look up at you.
“Jess. I’m not kidding. I am not having sex in your childhood bedroom, okay?”
She made a slight face in mock contemplation. “Well, I did suggest we take the guest bedroom…”
You scoffed and turned away briefly before rounding on her again, arm outstretched and circling the air in gesture.
"You can't even sit like that. Okay? Cause seeing you leaned back like that just makes me want to drop to my knees and suck you off."
Jessie's eyes grew wide at the blunt declaration while your words threatened to cause her blood to pump strictly between her legs. You scoffed further and walked away, leaving Jessie to jump up after you.
“I’m sorry. I understand. I’ll be good, I promise.”
"Mhmm," you voiced flatly. She nearly sighed; she was in the doghouse again.
You ignored her a while longer as you both returned to catching up with her parents. At one point her parents suggested a board game and Jessie went downstairs to pick one out and was relieved when you piped up saying you'd join her.
She matched your pace on the stairs, though she hopped down from step to step. She jumped and turned mid-air landing in front of you at the base of the stairs with a smile on her face though you just rolled your eyes.
"Must be nice to be so spry," you deadpanned.
She held out her hand to you and stepped out of the way giving a small bow. When you side-eyed her and gave a noncommittal hum as you walked on, her face fell in a frown of disappointment.
"Where are we going?" you asked.
"This way," she said, more subdued as she led you to an adjacent room. She turned on the light and pointed out the collection, but turned to face you right after. "Why are you upset with me?" She pouted.
"I'm not upset with you," you responded evenly. The way you examined the board games instead of looking at her did little to reassure Jessie.
"You seem upset. And I don't know what I did wrong," she went on.
You were leaned down slightly, hands on your knees as you determinedly studied the game collection, but straightened now and looked her way, your expression unreadable. Jessie frowned as you looked past her for a moment.
Before she could question you, you grasped her hand and pulled her towards you. You took her hand and guided it under the waistband of your pants and underwear until her fingers were against your hot, wet heat.
"Do I still seem upset to you?" You whispered in her ear as your other arm went around the back of her shoulders and pulled her close. Her knees gave slightly as she was overcome by the feel of your arousal and warm breath against her skin.
"Fuck," she said as her eyes closed as she began to automatically stroke her fingers through your swollen folds. "Oh my God, babe."
"I'm horny. And I want you. And I can't do anything about it," you said matter of fact. "That's all."
Jessie's eyes were still closed as she inadvertently began to grind her hips up into you while her fingers continued to explore. She gently circled your clit and wrapped her arm around your back securely as your own knees weakened.
"God, baby, I want you inside of me," you whined under your breath as you subtly rocked against her hand. Goosebumps rose across Jessie's skin as you softly panted in her ear; fingers on one hand running through her hair while your other hand groped her ass needily.
"Kiss me," you ordered as you pulled her head into you. She readily complied, her mouth clashing into yours in a messy, wanting kiss.
Jessie felt that all too familiar tightness forming in her pants as she began to harden. If you two were at home, she would've undressed you and fucked you the way you wanted. However, given current circumstances - there was no way.
She listened for noises beyond your whispers and moans. Hearing nothing, she sunk two fingers inside of your waiting tunnel. She pulsed at the sharp inhale you took and the way you melted into her embrace.
The angle was certainly tougher than months prior, she had to position herself around your burgeoning bump and she couldn't get as deep as she wanted with both of you standing like this, but it didn't seem to bother you.
While you wrapped an arm around her shoulder for balance, you let yourself fall into her waiting hand rhythmically, trusting her to hold you up and she did just so.
"God, baby, you're flooding my palm already," she breathed as she burrowed her head against you and curled her fingers inside of you furthermore. She was rock hard as, despite your efforts, the odd repressed, high-pitched whimper filled her ears.
"Shit!" She cursed as suddenly loud steps began to boom down the stairwell. You rapidly pulled away from one another, both wide-eyed with panic as you both tried to recover.
You quickly adjusted your clothes and fixed your hair. Your cheeks were flushed, but there was nothing to do about that. Jessie glanced at the very obvious bulge in her pants and at her fingers and palm that were coated in your juices.
"How's it going in there?" Her dad called from the other room. "I'm grabbing a couple of photo albums. Y/N, I can show you those pictures of Jessie at the science fair in elementary."
Jessie was still overwhelmed with panic and before she could determine what to do, you took a quick glance at the door before you stepped forward and grasped her hand. You held it up, locking eyes with her before placing her fingers in your mouth and very sensually bobbing your head up and down as you sucked them clean. Jessie's jaw fell at the feel and sight, her cock pulsing once more.
"Amazing! I'll come check them out with you," you called back once you released her fingers from your mouth.
"Babe," she hissed, though all she wanted was to feel your lips around her length.
You smirked and wiped her palm on the inside of your shirt before heading to the door. You were nearly there when Jessie's dad rounded the doorframe. She dropped into a crouch, back angled towards the door as she feigned looking at the games again.
"You two still haven't picked anything?" He asked as he arched an eyebrow. "Well, come on, Y/N, I'll start by showing you pictures first."
"Sounds good to me," you said as you and her dad departed. Jessie watched you subtly over her shoulder and glared when you waggled your fingers at her in a teasing wave with a wink.
It took her longer than she'd like to admit to recover. When she finally deemed it safe to head upstairs, her heart warmed at the sight of you on the couch with her parents poring over childhood pictures and listening attentively as they shared various, albeit, embarrassing stories.
Normally, she'd be bothered by the tales, but all she could focus on was the meeting of these two families of hers - the one she was born into and the one she was making with you.
You were together in the kitchen later and you sidled up to her, your arm brushing against hers as you whispered.
"Seems you recovered okay."
Jessie shot you a half-hearted glare. "Barely. I don't know how you're surviving." She leaned in, keeping an eye out for either of her parents, "From the way you were tightening around me, the way you were whimpering in my ear, seems you were pretty close." She held back a grin at how your shoulders fell and a faint, low groan escaped you.
You reciprocated, leaning back into her, your breath sending shivers down her spine.
"You better finish what you started, that's all I can say."
"Girls! Do you want some crackers to carry you over until dinner?"
Jessie groaned, jaw clenching in frustration as her mom's voice filtered in. Her annoyance dissipated slightly as you kissed her cheek.
The rest of the afternoon was filled with fleeting, hidden flirtations - all interrupted by her parents without fail. At the end of the night, you were all sitting in the living room watching a movie together, Jessie and you sitting together under a blanket on the couch with her parents on the other.
Jessie did her damn best to ignore the way your hand very subtly caressed her leg, inching so slowly towards the inside of her thigh. She shot you a few, increasingly less subtle looks of warning as you continued your incognito explorations.
At one point, Jessie felt herself start to grow firm and she cleared her throat, shuffling slightly away from you. She ignored the look you gave her.
She thought things were in the clear until you quietly excused yourself. Her parents offered to pause the movie, but you insisted they keep watching. Jessie's eyes followed you as you ducked upstairs.
She fidgeted for a while until she felt enough time had passed that she could reasonably excuse herself as well, also insisting that her parents keep watching.
Quietly padding down the upstairs hall, she frowned as she scanned the doors - seeing you weren't in the bathroom. Her bedroom door was closed though.
She gingerly opened it, peeking her head around the door and was met with a shadowy visual of you on the bed, legs spread, your hand between your legs. You met Jessie's shocked gaze, yours entirely unfazed, your motions not faltering, clearly knowing it would be her walking in.
Her jaw was slack yet again that day as she stepped inside quickly and closed the door quietly behind her. The second the door closed, you allowed soft moans to fall from your mouth.
"Jesus Christ, babe," Jessie whispered as she approached.
"I was hoping you'd follow me," you said. "I couldn't wait any longer."
No coherent thoughts ran through her mind as her eyes raked over your naked form in the pale moonlight. The curve of your breasts shone in the glow, your darkened nipples drawing her attention. And the ever growing roundness of your stomach caught the light just so, casting a shadow between your legs that was only illuminated every time your wrist moved as you played with your clit. She could hear how wet you were as opposed to seeing it, and the sound alone caused her to start to swell.
She hooked her arms under your thighs and pulled you to the edge of the bed as she settled wordlessly between your legs, hooking yours over her shoulders. Wasting no time, she buried her face in your wet folds, tongue wide and soft as she began to lap up the juices that dripped from your entrance.
You immediately let out a high moan, but you both stopped right away, your hands coming to your mouth in surprise, but to also muffle anything further. Jessie waited a few moments to let you recenter, but your hand coming to the back of her head told her the break was over.
She began to hungrily eat you out, her tongue pushing inside of you, circling your entrance, tracing up and down between your folds, tongue firm, then soft, over and over before flicking across your clit while she sucked.
Muffled whines came from you as your legs tensed and relaxed intermittently around her head. Your fingers dug into her crown, tugging her hair sharply now and then before releasing and caressing her and starting all over.
Eventually, you shifted slightly, tugging at her hair differently than before.
"I need you," you said as you signaled for her to stand. She quickly rose to her feet, undoing her pants and dropping them to the floor along with her boxers. She glanced at the bed for a moment, grabbing you a pillow and tucking it under your hips.
"Sorry," she said for not thinking of it sooner.
You didn't say a word, instead grabbing her by her hard on and pulling her towards your entrance.
"Okay, baby," she said, holding back a chuckle at your eagerness. She lined herself up and pushed herself forward, slipping inside of you effortlessly with how worked up you were.
"Oh Jesus," Jessie mumbled, eyes fluttering shut as you wrapped around her. "Fuck," she breathed as she drew her hips back and began to thrust into you with slow, firm strokes.
Your hands came up to your face, fingers digging into skin as a long, soft moan fought its way up your throat.
"God, I love you," you said, head thrown back. "I needed you so badly."
"I need you, too, baby," she said as she began to gradually pick up her pace.
"Fuck me harder, baby," you pleaded as you moved your hands to the back of her neck and pulled her into a kiss, Jessie needing to angle herself around your swollen middle. "I need you."
"Mm," Jessie groaned as she rolled her hips as she thrust into you. "I can't. I want to - God, I want to. But we can't be loud."
"I just want you to fuck me," you told her desperately as you began to claw at the back of her neck. A muffled cry fell from her lips as the sensation, arching her back over you, a hand subconsciously resting on the side of your bump. She went to lift herself back up so there was zero risk of her weight on your stomach, but you pulled her back up. "I want you with me."
Jessie nodded, angling herself again despite how uncomfortable it was, but if that's what you wanted and needed, then she'd gladly do it.
Despite what her mind told her, Jessie began to pump faster into you. The bed jostled, but it didn't creak. The loudest thing was the sounds that came each time she withdrew to the tip before driving her full length back inside of you. A small grunt escaped her as she dug her fingers into your thigh.
"I love you," she panted above you. "God, you're amazing."
You kissed her hard, but pulled back with a breathy laugh.
"How many girls have you fucked in this bed?"
"Huh?" Jessie frowned, blinking as she processed your question though her hips didn't falter.
"I said," you grasped her chin gently and bit her lower lip, giving it a tug, "how many girls have you fucked in this bed?"
"N-none," she responded, a deeper frown etched on her forehead. You knew better. You knew her whole history. Including the fact that she didn't get laid until university.
"Well lucky me," you said, a lilt in your voice as you traced your tongue along her lip.
Jessie chuckled, finally leaning back, grasping your legs and holding them out - careful not to do so in a way that'd strain you. She looked down at you as she fucked you and a smug smirk crossed her face.
"You're the only one in a lot of ways, babe. Definitely all the ways that count." She told you. You bit your lip and she went on quietly. "The only girl my whole family's met. The only girl I've bought a house with. The only girl I've given a ring to. And certainly," she rolled her hips in emphasis as she let her hands caress your stomach, "the only girl I've given my baby to."
"Oh fuck," you said, your voice barely a whisper as you draped an arm across your eyes, "I'm gonna cum. Don't stop."
Jessie was nearly on the verge as well as she did as she was commanded. She saw the way you bit down on your lip and buried your head into the sheets. You were so close.
"Girls! Is everything okay? Is Y/N? alright?"
"Oh fuck," Jessie hissed and you bit back a groan as footsteps ascended the stairs. Her hips stuttered as she fought between throwing caution to the wind and just chasing your high and stopping altogether. She looked down at you and you'd begun playing with your clit, hips still rocking against her.
Her voice got caught in her throat as pleasurable sensations shot through her as you began to convulse around her, squeezing her tight as your pussy pulsed around her. Her mouth opened and she blinked rapidly as she fought to react.
"Yeah, we're fine!" She eventually managed, your fingers now circling around her base and urging her to cum. She shot you a bewildered look as that familiar tightening and rush began to mount between her legs. She winced as the footsteps continued to approach. "We'll be down in a minute!" She called through the door, praying her voice wasn't as strained as it seemed in her head.
You continued to rock against her and suddenly her tension hit a peak and her jaw fell as she began to spill herself inside of you.
"Okay. We paused the movie. Come down when you're ready," her mom called.
"Thank you! We'll be down soon," you called through the door, finally coming to Jessie's aid as she instinctively held her hips flush against you, cum still pulsing inside of you, eyes screwed shut, her shoulders high and tense in the midst of the conflict between her physical and mental self.
When she finally came down from her climax, she dropped to her knees on the floor and between your legs, chest heaving as she recovered.
"That was mean," Jessie said as she glowered at you.
"The cum you dumped inside of me tells me otherwise," you said lightly as you pushed yourself off of the bed and began to get dressed. Jessie kept her eyes narrowed at you as she watched you. With a heavy breath, she hoisted herself up off the ground and began getting changed as well. She didn't take her glare off of you the entire time.
You walked up to her, unbothered, and rest a soft hand on her cheek as you gave her a peck.
"Look at us, sneaking around like a couple of horny teenagers," you said with a teasing smile before giving a nonchalant shrug. "It's actually kind of fun."
-----------------
"Oh my God," you breathed as you fell into the couch cushions of the cottage you two were renting. Though you still had three months to go, your stomach had already grown enough that sometimes when you sat, you automatically sat with your legs wide to accommodate your bump that rest low above your hips.
"Are you okay?" Jessie asked as she set down the backpack from your hike onto the wooden floor with a light thud. She crossed over to you, crouching in front of you and gently kneading your leg.
"I'm fine," you sighed, allowing your eyes to fall shut as your hand came up and idly rubbed your stomach. "I think I just pushed it too much. It's so stupid - that hike wasn't even hard. It was a walk not a hike, yet my hips and my back are so sore."
"Baby, I'm sorry," Jessie said, a frown of concern settling on her face. "I shouldn't have picked that hike. And I should've checked in more."
"Stop," you said, head lolling languidly side to side in dissent. "I thought it'd be totally fine and you checked in; I just kept pushing." You opened your eyes to look at her, offering a faint smile. "I'm not in pain, I'm just a bit sore and uncomfortable."
She hummed quietly and rubbed your hips gently. You winced softly and her frown deepened.
"I'd run you a bath, but...," Jessie trailed off, gaze flitting away. Though beautiful, the one flaw with this rental was the failing hot water. It was lukewarm at best and ran cold within a few shorts minutes. She was beyond annoyed by it.
"It's okay, really," you assured her as you waved her attention off.
"Here, let me help you up. Go lay on the bed, I'll start a fire and I'll give you a massage," she offered. You cocked your head in contemplation before giving a slow nod. Jessie beamed. "Okay."
Soon, she had a fire roaring in the fireplace and you were naked on the bed with Jessie gently and meticulously working your muscles, laying soft sweet kisses on you now and then as she went.
"I'm telling you right now, nothing's happening tonight," you told her, eyes closed as you lay on your side, Jessie rubbing the small of your back. "I'm just too uncomfortable."
She held up a hand in mild defense. "Heard. Got it. No funny business. That is more than fine. I just want to make you feel better."
"K, thank you," you said as you blindly reached down, pawing until you found her hand. You lifted it to your lips, giving her a small kiss before releasing it and sighing as you settled in again.
Jessie carried on dutifully, truly just hoping to make you feel better. That is, until you reached back and started to caress her leg. She didn't think anything of it initially until you hand continued to wander higher up and inward when possible, fingers kneading into her muscles.
A frown settled on her face as she fought off the urges that were building between her legs. You began to moan softly at her ministrations, shifting slightly under her touch, and it was doing more to her than she cared to admit. However, the burgeoning hard-on forming in her shorts - the one that she was working to conceal from you - would give her away. She cleared her throat and refocused her attention on the wall, trying to think about anything but how good you looked and sounded.
With the fire roaring across the room, the light it cast against you accentuated your bump. She quietly observed the faint line that was forming from your naval to your pubic bone and the way the light danced across your skin.
It was such a strange sensation, a tingling in her chest upon seeing the way your body changed as the new life you two created grew within, and the way her arousal grew at knowing it was her who made you like this; that it was her you let transform you in this way.
"I changed my mind," you eventually said in a whine, legs rubbing together.
Jessie looked away, wondering what to do.
"About?" She asked innocently, though she was hopeful about what you were meant.
"You know what," you whined further, peeking an eye open at you.
"...you sure?" she asked apprehensively. "Cause there's no pressure at all."
"Your tented shorts tell me otherwise, baby," you said teasingly. Jessie blushed madly, closing her legs and timidly shuffling away from your prying eyes.
"Ignore that," she mumbled.
"I don't want to. I want it in me," you said resolutely, reaching back for her.
"Babe...," Jessie went on. "You're sore already."
"You took such good care of me. I feel better," you assured her. She gave you an unconvinced look and you implored. "I'm serious, baby. I want you."
Jessie hesitated further, but when you placed her hand between your legs, her fingers immediately being met with your arousal, she caved.
"Okay, but, you just stay like that, I don't want to strain you at all," she said as she took off her clothes and settled in behind you. She kissed the back of your shoulder and wrapped her arm around your stomach, thumbing it affectionately as she spooned you.
She continued laying slow, sensual kisses along the back of your shoulder, smirking at how you began to writhe in her arms.
"Baby, please."
She gave you one more lingering kiss before she pulled her hand back to line herself up with your entrance.
"Since you asked so nicely," she said, as she slowly entered you. You gasped softly as you reached a hand back over your shoulder to run your fingers through her hair.
"Mm, you feel so incredible every time," Jessie praised as she slowly drew back and pushed in again. She reached around your swollen midsection and placed her hand between your legs to gently play with your clit.
"Oh God, Jess," you said as you writhed under her touch. You moaned. "Mm, you feel so good inside of me." You leaned your head back into her and she pulled you closer as she pushed deeper inside of you.
She kissed along your back softly, your body rocking within her embrace as she made love to you in the warm glow of the nearby fire.
Eventually, Jessie propped herself up on her forearm to look down at you. As nice as it was to hold you in her arms, she missed seeing your face as you made love.
She shifted further, pulling out momentarily as she knelt, knees wide and now leaning over you, one arm behind you and one arm in front.
"Mmm," you complained, a frown on your face as you looked at her. "I liked being held by you." She kissed your shoulder as she lined herself up again.
"Let me try this," she said as she pushed inside.
You moaned as she sunk deep into you. In this new position, she was free to angle her hips better and a few strokes in, she began to pick up her pace, something she couldn't easily do before.
A renewed moan fell from your lips, your mouth dropping open as Jessie held herself up over you and began to thrust steadily and deeply inside of you, her hips free to bounce easily and quickly in this position, while still not adding weight or stress to your body.
"Oh shit," you panted as she fucked you with fervour, sweat starting to bead around her hairline.
"God, you look fucking beautiful," Jessie said as she stared down at you adoringly. "You look even more amazing carrying my baby than I even imagined."
Your hand came up to the back of her neck and you moaned heavily.
"I can't believe I waited so long to let you get me pregnant," you said, hand still caressing the back of her neck. Jessie groaned, eyes closing briefly.
"You know what that talk does to me," she said as her pace quickened slightly.
"It's crazy to think about," you went on. "Back when we first met - to think I was sitting across from the woman who - in a few years - I'd be underneath, legs spread, begging her to pump her baby into me."
"Christ," Jessie cursed as she gave a slight shake of her head, trying to hold back her orgasm which was now rapidly approaching as your words egged her on.
Your other hand came to your stomach and caressed it.
"We don't even have our first yet and I already want you to give me another."
"Babe," Jessie said desperately, her hands clenching into fists on the mattress. "I'm gonna cum if you keep that up."
"Do it. Cum inside of me, I want you to," you said as your fingernails dug into the back of her neck.
She didn't want to oblige, she hated cumming before you did. She balanced on one hand, returning the other to your clit, encouraged by how your eyes closed in pleasure and your sounds rose in pitch.
She felt a bead of sweat run down the side of her face and she panted in effort, but she knew you were close. When you finally clutched the sheets and a cry fell from your lips, she couldn't help herself and she came with a stunted moan, legs spreading wider as she angled and pushed herself as deep inside of you as she could.
"Fuck," she panted, head falling back as she looked up at the ceiling, blinking rapidly as wave after wave of pleasure shot through her as she emptied herself into you. As the last few drops drained out of her, she gave a couple of slow, prolonged thrusts before collapsing next to you, her arm draped over your midsection.
When she came to, she laid slow, gentle kisses along your waist and up your body, finishing at your flushed cheeks. Her heart swelled as she looked at you.
“I love you.”
#jessie fleming#jessie fleming x reader#woso x reader#woso imagine#canwnt x reader#woso smut#wlw breeding
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Snow in London
Pairing: idol!Jaehyun x escort!reader
Genre: fluff, romance, smut
Word Count: 4.2k
Summary: Jaehyun has to spend Christmas alone in London and figures that with money, you can buy anything - even company to make him feel less alone.
A/N: Merry Christmas guys - this is my gift for you! Have happy holidays and enjoy! (You might get confused as the story unfolds, but keep reading, it will all make sense, trust me)
A bottle of wine and an escort.
If two weeks ago someone had told Jaehyun that this was how he was going to spend this year’s Christmas, he would have called that person a fool. Usually, he spent it among his family, friends and members, and everyone knew. Very cozy and comfortable, only with the people closest to him.
Now, Jaehyun himself was the person who looked like a fool.
It was Christmas Eve and he was sitting in a hotel room on the other side of the world - London, to be exact - far away from all the people dear to him. If only he hadn’t accepted this campaign shoot for this certain luxury brand, he would be home by now, fast asleep after having enjoyed good food with his family.
But fate had other things in store for him when it was announced this morning that all domestic and international flights were canceled due to the heavy snowstorm that would last a couple of days. Jaehyun knew it was his responsibility as a global ambassador, but he had really begged to not accept this job in case something like this would happen. It didn’t usually snow in the UK, so his team had just shrugged his concerns off.
But somehow, he had sensed it, and now he was locked up here with nowhere else to go.
When Jaehyun looked out of the window, he saw white everywhere with not a single vehicle passing by in the streets, and the snow wouldn’t stop falling. He doubted he could take a flight tomorrow or the day after that. Or the day after that even. It was frustrating.
With a ‘thud’, he let himself fall back onto the bed. At least he was in a high class hotel close to Hyde Park and the staff had invited him to go to the bar with them, but Jaehyun wasn’t in the mood for company now. Well, at least not the company of so many people he didn’t know well enough.
Why an escort then?
Jaehyun didn’t want to spend Christmas Eve entirely alone, but he also didn’t want the commitment of having the person around until the next morning with the obligation of getting something physical out of it. He would rather leave it open. Or even worse, he didn’t want to take the flight back with that person and work together again depending on how this night would end. So that was why the staff was ruled out and the hotel employees as well just because they were short handed during the holidays.
Jaehyun just didn’t want to be alone on Christmas Eve and he had the money for it.
The fact that he had indeed never done something like this before was mirrored in how his heart jumped the moment he heard a knock on the door. Luckily, it was just room service bringing the wine he had ordered shortly before, leaving him all alone again with a simple “Merry Christmas”.
If this Christmas Eve was going to turn merry for Jaehyun, he also didn’t know yet.
The second time he heard a knock, he opened the door even more nervous to find you standing in front of him whose picture he had only briefly seen on the website this morning.
The first thing he noticed about you was how much prettier you were in real life. If he were being honest, you didn’t look like your photos at all as in fact, he found you more beautiful in person and with your bright aura, his nervousness directly dropped a bit.
Perhaps, he had also not looked at the photos properly, because he wanted to leave it open whether there would be intimate contact at all, and there were not many working today. In the end, he preferred any company over none at all and this was a time where he couldn’t be picky much since he also didn’t want to reduce a person to their outward appearance only and wanted to talk to them too.
So Jaehyun was pleasantly surprised to see you, a pretty, young woman with a nice energy, standing in front of him.
The second thing he noticed was that you must be cold, because despite your body being covered in a thick black puffer jacket and a pair of black pants that ended in boots, there were remnants of snow everywhere on your body, and since the flakes were melting by room temperature, it looked like you had just run through the rain with your face uncovered also.
For a special day with special services, if Jaehyun were to be blunt, you were dressed and styled quite ordinary - which he didn’t mind at all though since you were only going to stay in the room anyway, he had dropped the fact beforehand! He just couldn’t help but to notice the great difference in the sexy clothings and heavy makeup you had worn on your online pis and the way you were styled now.
But he’d rather have you warm and cozy than sexy during such a weather, he wasn’t one to pay much attention to outer clothing anyway when most of the time he was wearing lounge pants himself. Actually Jaehyun felt really relieved since he also hadn’t dressed up much for this occasion, wearing his slacks and black shirt at most.
“Good evening. It’s cold outside, come in.”
Jaehyun opened the door widely, and the third thing he noticed about you was how good you smelled when you walked past him with a light,
“Good evening. Thank you.”
You opened your jacket and Jaehyun, like the gentleman he was, helped you get out of it and hung it up on the wardrobe. When he turned back around, he observed you standing in the room, wrapping your arms around yourself and trembling with your light clothes since your upper body was only covered in a blouse.
“Didn’t you use the shuttle I ordered?” he asked.
“You ordered a shuttle for me? Oh…” You shook your head. “I used the subway and walked all the way from Oxford Circus to here.”
That was why you looked like you had walked through the snowstorm - because you literally did. “I paid for a shuttle service straight to the hotel too, no?” Jaehyun was sure this had been listed on the bill as an extra service for which he had already paid.
“I didn’t get the notice, she didn’t tell me. Only the hotel, floor and room number. There are no cars or services running, so….”
Suddenly, Jaehyun felt bad. He assumed ‘she’ was the operator in the company, something like a manager. “Take off your clothes.”
“What?”
He was confused that you had turned confused, so you were looking at each other, equally puzzled. “I want to hang them up, so you don’t have to walk around with wet clothes and risk getting a cold. And I want you to take a shower please, to warm yourself up.”
You blinked a few times, but then replied, “Oh! No, I was only taken aback a bit…”
“Don’t worry.” Jaehyun finally realized what had run through your head. “I’m not like that.”
Even though you only nodded as a reply, he clearly saw how relieved you were, and he started questioning whether you knew what you were actually here for as you appeared a bit insecure about this entire situation. Even though it might not happen right away or at all, the job description was very clear and you weren’t a newbie if he had to believe the website. But Jaehyun shrugged it off as this was a special circumstance and day you might not get into often as well.
Jaehyun then sent you to the bathroom with information on where to find the towels and a bathrobe. He just couldn’t live with the thought of having a woman come over despite the weather and dealing with the consequences.
Rummaging through his luggage, he found a simple white long sleeve and checkered lounge pants that must be way too big for you, but he figured it was better than leaving you in a bathrobe or making you wear your own clothes again before they had fully dried.
When you walked out of the bathroom approximately half an hour later, with semi-dried hair, a bathrobe way too big for you and wearing no makeup at all anymore, the fourth thing Jaehyun noticed about you was that you were an ordinary young woman who he could have also met on the streets or in a club, not someone he paid to spend a few hours with.
And if he were to say it out loud, he wouldn’t want you to misunderstand this. There was no negative connotation with this thought, especially not in regard to your job which services he was making use of himself. It just dawned on him that you were two ordinary people in private, alone on Christmas Eve.
In the end, when it came down to loneliness, you were both the same.
“You’re so kind to me,” you stated when Jaehyun handed you his clothes.
“I figured someone who has to work on Christmas Eve deserves more kindness than usual.”
“It was okay,” you simply stated and returned to the bathroom while it echoed, “There weren’t too many rude customers today, thank god.”
Jaehyun tilted his head in question over this cryptic statement. Had you just used plural? Oh my, how many customers did you take in a day? Was Christmas Eve really that busy? But then he decided to brush it off. It was none of his business anyway, although it remained in the back of his head, itching him a bit.
While he walked over to the table where he had also already prepared two glasses and opened the wine, you left the bathroom again, now fully dressed in his clothes.
Jaehyun attempted really hard not to look up and to stare, so he tried to catch a glimpse or two from the corner of his eyes while filling the wine glasses. Under any other circumstances, this would have been an awkward first date, and even though it wasn’t since he paid for your company, pretending to have it be one made it a little bit easier for him, he had to admit.
“Wine?” he offered, and he perceived in the way the look in your eyes changed that you very much welcomed this ice breaker.
“Thank you.”
Alcohol was not only very popular for making your tongue loose, which was why, two glasses of wine for each of you later, your outer clothes had become very loose as well and eventually landed on the floor next to the bed.
“You know,” you murmured in between kisses before Jaehyun slid his tongue along your jaw and only came to a stop with it by the side of your neck, which made you giggle. “I usually don’t do this the first time I meet someone… At least not directly.”
Jaehyun pricked up his ears, but didn’t stop nibbling on the soft skin. “Oh? But then, what do you usually do upon first meeting someone?”
“Usually we go out, to a restaurant or something. And if the vibe is right, one thing leads to another…”
Of course he knew about the fact that high quality escort services didn’t come with short lived physical intimacy only. But there was only so much he was able to do in such a situation, and now he was truly wondering if he should have ordered a room service meal first since he hadn’t even been fixated on physical contact only. It was his first time too, so he still felt a bit lost - and guilty he wasn’t able to offer more.
But he was just so attracted to you which was even more fueled by the bit of alcohol in his system now, and upon the first time he had leaned in to kiss you only moments before this, he knew you felt the same about him. Which was good! After all, he couldn’t imagine getting intimate with someone who had to pretend to like him for his sake and for the money.
“I would have taken you out first too, but during this snowstorm…”
He didn’t come to end his sentence, because you cupped his face and pulled him up, so that you were facing each other again, and you reassured him with your thumb stroking tenderly over his warm cheek, “I don’t mind this time.”
“Good.”
And with that, the last word was spoken just as the last pieces of clothing, your underwear, found their way onto the floor too.
When Jaehyun was running his fingers through your hair, caressing the sensitive skin on your shoulder with his warm lips, he noticed that, even after showering, you still smelled as good as in the moment when you first had walked through the door. You weren’t wearing any heavy perfume or another scent. This was just you, the natural you. He liked it.
You were sitting on his lap and held onto his strong upper arms for support as he went lower with his lips to the area around your cleavage. Your teeth sank into the flesh of your bottom lip when he bit into your nipple, making you gasp eventually. You felt him smile against your breast, and, almost as if he wanted to apologize, he licked over the spot and then gently placed a kiss on it.
When he dedicated his mouth to your other mound though, he didn’t use his teeth anymore, but only his tongue. And a few moments later, you let your head roll back as he sucked on nibbled on that spot, causing sensations to run all through your body and your thighs to clasp around him even stronger as though you wanted more of him too. And you actually did, oh how much you did!
But a familiar tone made you both turn your head to the desk simultaneously where your phone was lightening up and vibrating. Who would interrupt you at such a time?
“Just ignore it,” you told him, and he nodded deliberately.
“Very well.”
He grabbed you by your bum and with a gasp, you then were flipped around and fell backwards onto the mattress with a giggle. When your phone had exactly stopped ringing, you couldn't tell in the end, because you long had Jaehyun’s fingers inside of you.
What he thought when he was pleasuring you with his hand, wasn’t only how hot you looked as a writhing and whiny mess under him from whom he couldn’t avert his eyes, but also how fun it was, because there was a smile showing on your face every now and then.
Jaehyun usually never did one night stands, though there had been a handful of ones throughout the years. But these girls, he had talked to before, even in a drunken state only. That he just requested the company of someone and they would actually match so well from the first moment on like with you, he hadn’t expected at all.
His fingers were drenched when he pulled them out of you after noticing how tight you had gotten around him due to your arousal, but he was determined to prolong the act. After all, you had the whole night and he could still sleep on the plane the next day - if they would run again - which he doubted. And a part of him already thought further and made plans to book you instead again.
“Look at me.”
Jaehyun didn’t know why exactly, but he just wanted that. It made him feel warm around his chest. And he could need a little warmth right now when it was so cold and lonely outside. He hoped you did too.
Your eyes were indeed warm when you looked at each other, so he couldn’t help but lift his free hand and brush some streaks of your hair out of your face. There were worse ways to spend Christmas, he had to admit. Actually, this Christmas had turned really nice at this point.
Jaehyun got pulled out of his thoughts though when he felt the palms of your hands in his nether regions, first stroking along his inner thighs, then wrapping around his full length. No way this was happening. The unexpected sensation made him fold, and he had a really hard time propping his weight up against his elbows to hold himself in position when it all felt so good.
“You like that?” you whispered into his ear with a low voice that turned him on so much.
“Just keep going and I won’t be able to guarantee anything.”
With a brush over his tip, you wiped away his droplet of precum. You then retracted your hand to lead your stained fingers to your mouth and slid them in without breaking eye contact with him. This way you let him know that he nevertheless would end up very lucky this christmas.
Even your phone vibrating again couldn’t interrupt the mood since you both quietly agreed to ignore it before he reached for a condom on the nightstand to prepare himself. There still were a few hours of Christmas Eve left, a few hours where you could still try out stuff. Right now, you both just needed to get it off.
Jaehyun wondered if there was something you absolutely wouldn’t do or liked to do, but there was no room to think about it much anyway when you were lying under him, completely naked, a light sheen of sweat covering most parts of your body, and your facial expression welcoming him with your lips slightly parted.
Could he imagine a better gift for his situation? Absolutely not.
He parted your thighs with his knees when he sat in front of you and guided himself in. It was easy with almost no strength required, that was how wet he had already gotten you through his fingerwork. Grabbing your thighs to your left and right, Jaehyun slid you along the mattress closer to him so that you were eventually fully sheathed inside and stuck skin on skin.
You spread out your hands when he started to pull out, then pushed in again, and with every time, he added a little more force. Your eyes rolled to the ceiling as your fingers entangled with the sheet to your left and right, and you suddenly weren’t mad at your parents anymore for leaving you alone on Christmas, so that you had decided to still work and practically spend it with a stranger. You could imagine having a worse celebration than this one right here.
It had been quite a while since you last had sex, and you weren’t sure it had ever been this good or if it were only the circumstances and you were just so into each other - which was so rare! But in the end, it didn’t really matter. If the first blind encounter was already this good, there for sure would be a second one!
You felt your climax nearing the moment he picked up his speed, and although you were able to cum like this, you still appreciated that he changed the position from kneeling in front of you to lying on top of you. It felt good to wrap your legs around his middle, and feel him, every stroke, no matter how hard or long, even more intense.
He was breathing into your ear, and at one point even kissed your earlobe, then your cheek. It was intimate and cute at the same time, and he eventually hovered over you with his face, so you spread out your arms to welcome him with a kiss on your mouth, and then hugged him close to your body.
His breathing turned irregular and it wasn’t in sync with his thrusts anymore, that was how you could foretell that at any second, he would cum. With your fingers grabbing into his hair, partly gently, partly determined, you signalized him that it was alright to let go, and that you would follow too.
As though he had been holding in until you gave such kind of approval, he came the moment he slid back inside you with a low groan right beside your ear. You witnessed his breathing turning regular and slower and him gaining back full control of his body, because he did not directly pull out of you after he was done.
Instead, he continued moving for as long as he was still able to and eventually got you off with his hands so that you shook in his arms and he was now the one having to hold you through your climax.
“Best Christmas Eve ever,” you eventually breathed when he let go of you and rolled to one side of the now messy bed. “That was a nice gift.”
“Right back at you,” Jaehyun said.
With a look at you, he observed how you tried to grab the blanket to wrap it around your naked body to keep yourself warm. He knew a better method though.
Jaehyun moved to your side of the bed and laid down, but making sure to have closed his arms around you before to pull you down with him right onto his chest. For a moment, he was worried that it was too much and you would free yourself again. But as he felt your muscles relaxing and you eventually put an arm around him too, he was very much relieved.
“Why are you spending Christmas alone?” you eventually asked him after a few moments of silence. “She didn’t tell me.”
Ah, so details truly weren’t passed on upon request. “My flight back home got canceled due to the snowstorm, but I didn’t want to be all alone.” Jaehyun didn’t know whether he could ask this question back, but he did nonetheless. He figured if you didn’t want to or weren’t allowed to share private info, you would tell him immediately.
“Oh, you wanted to spend it among your family too but they live abroad?” He wanted to explain that he lived abroad too, but your answer caught his attention more, “My parents suddenly decided they would rather spend two weeks on a cruise in the Caribbean sea instead of celebrating with me, so I was alone too.”
“I understand that.” If he would have been left alone on Christmas, since it was a holiday spent among the family in the UK, he would have rather worked too, Jaehyun thought to himself. “That’s why we’re here.”
“Yeah, that’s why.”
It was cold outside, but their bodies and hearts were warm, not only because of them sharing their physical warmth, but mostly because they were not alone anymore.
So it was an unspoken agreement that their encounter wouldn’t end here. Or at night. Probably only the next morning. And even then, you both wondered if it actually would when it felt this good.
“Should I order room service?” Jaehyun asked instead.
You nodded with excitement. “Actually, I’m quite hungry.”
“Yeah, me too.” He laughed and stretched out his arm to reach for the phone, but you both heard a knock on the door before he could call anyone.
“Did you already order something before?” you asked out of curiosity, but Jaehyun shook his head.
“Maybe someone from my team?”
You frowned. “Team…?”
But Jaehyun didn’t see it as he had already jumped out of bed to throw on some light clothes so that it wouldn’t get that embarrassing to open the door to one of the staff.
Standing in front of him was no familiar staff at all though.
“Good evening, here I am.”
Jaehyun was flabbergasted. Had it been a glass of wine too much? Because in front of him stood the woman whose exact pictures he had seen online this morning, he now remembered clearly. Not only was she wearing the exact same clothes, but also the same heavy makeup. No doubt, he wasn’t dreaming or imagining.
“I’m sorry for the delay,” she continued. “The shuttle you ordered couldn’t get through, I was waiting for so long. I ordered a taxi from Oxford Circus instead and that eventually got stuck. I had to walk the rest of the way, but now I’m here… What is it? Don’t you want to invite me in?”
“Pardon me… what?!”
On the other side of the room, you had finally picked up the phone call from your friend who had just called for the third time.
“Hey! You can’t imagi-... What do you mean? How can he still be waiting when I am currently with him? Yes, the guy you set me up on a blind date with, he’s here,” you defended yourself over the line, then paused. “What do you mean? I am in the room on the fifth floor, the exact room you told me.”
You looked over to the man who had just closed the door again and your eyes locked with undefinable gazes.
“This is the fourth floor.”
Then, you both asked the other as realization dawned at the same time,
“Who are you?”
#jaehyun#jeong jaehyun#jaehyun smut#jaehyun imagines#jaehyun scenarios#jaehyun x reader#jaehyun x you#jaehyun x y/n#jaehyun fanfiction#nct#nct 127#nct smut#nct x you#nct x reader#nct imagines#nct scenarios#kpop x reader#kpop imagines#kpop scenarios
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𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭, 𝐝𝐮𝐛𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐝𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐤𝐧𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲, 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐯𝐞 note: I came back from 2 month hiatus go me! anyways ur gonna see me post more on diff fandoms other than horror. sorry bout that guys love u all tho
𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐁𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐅𝐚𝐧
Your window was open for everyone to see, the curtains being put aside, and with that he could easily take a peek at you.
The mirror light bulb shined upon your skin as you were carefully putting your highlighter around the corner of your eyes. The little specks of glitter and your rosy lip balm complimented your looks, and your hair was put in a tidy style. People would assume you were going on a date. A hookup, a party or the bar. But instead, you were staying home tonight. Why? For your job, which was to open the camera and say hello to your followers.
As you finished your foundation and last touch ups, you started setting up the camera in your computer. Browsing from each web page, and quickly announcing that you were going live for all your fans to flock to your stream. You were grateful for your followers, for the money, but as well as them giving the new found confidence you have nowadays. Your outfits had become more flashier, bold and a bit more risque, and he didn’t like that. Your smile lingered on more, and you received more texts than usual, and he didn’t like that. Your new height of fame and laughter was making you less alert. And that was the only thing he liked, knowing that one day you’ll meet your number one fan, which was him.
He couldn’t lie though, the outfits weren’t so bad, he just wished you wouldn’t have to flaunt it to others. Or that pretty gasp you have on camera when you play a horror game, he wished that you were doing that as he put his knife into you instead. He wished, for everything that you were doing, to those stupid men in the same doormat as you, to those girls who were forcing you to party, to those pesky followers who abide by you no matter what you say; was for him instead. And he wanted so much of you. Even if you didn’t know him, and he was there in front of your house right now as you stream, he wanted you to smile for him as well.
It's been months he's been watching you, he knows what coffee you like, what route you take to go to your lecture, what you order in that nearby bakery. He knows who you interact with in real life, your study friends and your family members, he knows which albums you loved when you went to the vinyl store. And he knows what you do at home. You yell and shout at the game, you make niche jokes about your interests to chat. You scroll down in your constant approvals from the masses, you converse to other creators from an entirely different place of the world.
He knows your two lives. And he found it endearing, found it to be so different from all the other victims he had. When nobody knows what you say and what you are in real life, he does. When nobody on the internet knows what location you were at and what you were studying, he does. He found it so special. Of course, he came into the conclusion he was truly your biggest fan. Whether you put that stupid mask on and off, and you become insane from your two lives blurring into another, he’ll have front row seats to such an event. How sweet.
Ghost_F: Nice shirt cupcake.
“Oh Ghostie! You’re too sweet.” You responded in a flush state. To be honest, you always laughed at the nickname you gave to this fan. You gave this name after he became such a vital follower in the past four months. You can say he was rapidly coming close to being your most noticeable one, after he constantly catches up with your streams daily. He was also giving a hectic amount of money, where you had no clue coming from. Well, he didn’t want you to know that money came from the victims he murdered with cold blood. Maybe next time.
Ghost_F: Whatcha doin’?
“Mhm? I don’t know Ghostie. I believe I’m just gonna talk today. How bout it, chat?” That shirt on you was slowly hanging more down as you face more to the screen, he could see that bra he saw a week ago on a night. It looked good on you. Although, it would’ve been better if there weren't eighty people seeing this as well.
And to his annoyance, your followers agreed to the idea. You were just gonna sit there and stay pretty, which he didn’t mind, but he would rather hear your screams again as you play a game. But, you don’t need a horror game for today. He’ll find a way to help you yelp and cry later.
“Alright chat, let's check the timeline for today- Uh.” You turn your head.
There was a knock on the door. Package delivery? You didn’t order anything. You stand up out of your seat and open your door. There was nothing on the ground. Probably one of those annoying college dudes who prank dorms.
“Sorry, chat! There was a knock on the door. But it was nothing! God, my neighbors are assholes.”
You continued to your stream and shrugged it off as if nothing had happened. You casually just scrolled down onto your posts and saw what was happening to the latest news of your favorite games and movies. Small comments back and forth, making you chuckle, but nothing out of the ordinary. Until one viewer sent out a message in chat.
“Don’t you get scared at night? There's like a killer running around in the streets of your state.”
A fan warned. You heard about the murders happening around the state, especially in your town. But you didn’t seem to be phased by it, knowing how much serial maniacs plague this country with states such as Illinois and Ohio, you became desensitized. Though, you didn’t know so much about the recent papers about this prolific guy.
“Well, I don’t know much about him.” Your chat quickly was then filled with information and rumors. Some say he came from the deep levels of hell, sadistic and twisted. Others told how he looked, how he was covered with a ghastly mask and a dark cloak hiding his figure. More talked about the victims, how they were left in a bloody gruesome mess. Word around the street, he goes by the name Ghostface, because of his uncanny mask. All in all, it freaked you out a little. This man is out free swinging his knife and no police were able to catch him. You started getting paranoid.
Ghost_F: You guys are scaring her. Sweets, don’t listen to them.
“Yeah, chat! I don’t even go out at night, I stay home and talk to you guys. And the likely chance of me getting snatched, is pretty low” You giggle it off.
“Anyways, I’m probably not his type.” You were so wrong.
As you were facing the screen and fidgeting around your hair, you swore you something in the corner of your eye. It stopped you in your tracks. You froze in front of the camera. All of your followers were concerned, asking if you were okay.
“Ah, it’s nothing guys. I’m probably just being paranoid after you guys scare me like that!” You resumed your cool facade. You didn’t want them to know that your legs were bouncing up and down in anticipation for what's next. But you soon finally let yourself calm down, telling your brain it's probably some silly animal or neighbor.
You heard a thump. What was that?
Now you were fully freaked out. You jump out of your setup and slowly walk to the kitchen, to get a pan. You tiptoed to your door, and waited for the figure to come here. The thumping of your heartbeat was all you could hear in your ears, and your breath became anxious as you feared for an intruder coming in. No, no not like this.
In a countdown, you open the door once more. It was bare. Nothing, but you could see a hint of a footprint. Dirt? Blood? You couldn’t tell as it was mixed within the colors of the hallways carpet. But something was going on. And yet you close the entrance to your home, shrugging it off to keep up with your stream. You come back to where you reside, and update your followers. Telling them constantly there was nothing wrong. You brush it off, hoping for them to stop trying to interrogate what had happened. You didn’t wanna think about it too much.
Soon, minutes passed and you finally had your fans stop nagging and continued with the next topic. The nerves in your body were finally going down, and you could see yourself sinking into the chair with relaxation. Nevermind what had happened, it wasn’t your problem anyways.
You received a message.
Who was it? The notification went on your screen, and you check on your account on who it was. Hoping it isn’t a scammer or some creep.
It was revealed to be your follower, Ghostie. Hello, it said.
You message him, asking what’s up. No response. You waited for some sort of confirmation or reply after he said a simple hello. Ominous and a little worrying. You sat there, furrowing your brows as you stood by. The stream was finally coming to a close, and there was still no updated news from the man. You sighed, you’re going to leave it be.
Ghost_F donated 2000 dollars.
“Holy shit! Ghostie, what the hell?” He was toying you at this point. This mysterious user was playing mind games with you, and you had no clue why. Just a pitiful gut in your feelings, waiting and responding with surprises. The night was getting even stranger.
Everybody in the chat was shocked. Praising the guy for the huge donation and telling you deserved it. You felt lost of what to say, how do you even reply to such a generous amount of money? If he keeps it up, your entire debt would be gone by the end of the month. And you couldn’t help but feel shameful, thinking about how you didn’t really do that much. You sat around and played games, there was nothing honorable or worth spending a gold bar on.
“Jesus Christ! That’s the biggest donation I-I ever received.” You look at the camera with your face feeling a little flustered.
“How can I make it up to you?” This will bite you in the ass later.
The man privately messaged you. It says;
Go on a call with me, sweets. Stay on live.
Sketchy, but you didn’t wanna ruin this generous deal. You obliged, and you tell your following that you’ll go on a call with him, expressing your happiness and thanks. None of them opposed the idea, they probably wanted to interact with this unknown user who came into the community out of nowhere. Joking about how this bizarre online stranger was going to make you end up like those victims. And you were curious too, who was this guy? Who was Ghost?
His profile was just a default one, no bio, no additional excerpts, just a username. Hesitating at first, the unknown user startled you, it made you draw back and doubt. But you ignored your gut screaming at you to stop. You wanted to make your number one supporter happy, nothing bad right?
You started the phone call. Sitting there, anticipating for him to join.
“Hello?”
“Hey doll.” Wow. His voice was smooth and raspy. You blushed at the sound of his words, it was all rugged and yet deep. It was attractive, especially with that name he called you, you couldn’t help but feel heat rising on your cheeks. And chat wasn’t helping either, spamming in with comments of how nice he sounded, teasing with your sudden reaction, you could feel embarrassment furrowing into your body.
“Um- well I want to say a huge thanks to you man. Thanks Ghostie!”
He chuckled. Don’t do that!
“No problem sweet’s. You can make it up to me.” His comment piqued your interest. What can you do in return for his huge donation? Play a game? Do a silly prank? Or wear a costume? You didn’t know, but as much as bad as it sounded, it made you curious. The deal was so lucrative. It weighed like a mouse leading to a trap, and you were still wanting to know more. About him. About this mysterious man. About this fan that you couldn’t help but have your eyes on. You needed to know more.
“Pfft- Do I have to wear a cute dress or something?” You tease.
“Oh no doll, I wish though,” Huh? “Just a question would do.”
A question? This guy was really strange. Out of all the things he could’ve told you to do, he wanted to just ask you a question. Hell, you would’ve actually worn something for him if you really had to. He disregarded that option though. Something more he had in mind it seems.
“What’s your favourite horror movie?”
Strange, but nonetheless intriguing. You look back into your memory, thinking of the multiple movies you have watched. You always loved the horror genre, so it would be harder to pick out which ones you loved the most. Nightmare on Elm Street, Hellraiser, Texas Chain Massacre, the list goes on, and you didn’t want to pick such a basic answer. Thinking back to your recent watches, you reminded yourself that you watched Halloween. And you enjoyed that movie, so you’ll use that as an answer.
“Mhm, Halloween. The guy with a white mask and blue outfit.”
“Good pick, cupcake. Why though?”
“Well it was a really good movie, it had a lot of scares and had me tense for a little bit and- chat don’t say that!” Oh god. Chat was telling your real honest opinion of the movie, and said you were lying. Laughing and spreading emotes, and told Ghostie that you liked the movie because of the killer. In a drunken state of mind in one of your past streams, you mentioned that you had the hots for Myers. It haunted you ever since, and you forgot that people remember that little fact of yours. You were punching yourself in the inside, dying from all the humiliation.
“You have a crush on Myers?” He asked, chuckling on the side. He was happy knowing he was your type.
“Yeah. God that’s so bad. I-I don’t know how to explain it, I mean he’s a killer!” You giggled in response. Admitting to how hilarious and humbling it is. All the while, the other side of the phone is smiling underneath the mask. Smirking with your cute answer, he can’t help but to awe at your little face cringing from chat nagging on to you. He couldn’t wait for you to realize that he was one too. A dirty, murderous, criminal, who has eyes on you. He couldn’t wait for you to look at him and see your adorable face.
“It’s not that bad, sweets. People love bad boys.” You could hear his grin even if you didn’t see his face.
“Ok, ok, just ask me a different question!”
“Alright, alright. Hm. You got a guy?” Oh christ! You stood aghast, a little shocked from the boldness. In front of viewers too, he didn’t care that you had fanboys or loyal people loving you. Yet, you played along, wanting to tease around as if you were interacting with a beast. You were too curious to give up.
“No, I’m too busy with streaming and school. Are you hitting on me or something?” His laughter ensued, it sounded mischievous.
“I don’t know, am I? Tell me doll, do you think I am?” He was playing with you. Taunting you. You didn’t know how to respond, it made you stutter with your words. You hated it so much. But, god, was it attractive.
“I mean- I don’t know! I think you are!” His laugh became even more boisterous. You were just so fun to tease. He never had a victim like this in a while. Never had a girl like you being so eager and yet so hesitant. It amuses him, your defiance brings him entertainment like never before.
“Oh cupcake! You’re making me laugh.” You giggle back to him. “I just have one more question.”
“Ok, ok. What Ghostie?”
“Where do you live?”
What?
You froze. You didn’t know if you were hallucinating what he just said, but the silence told you otherwise. He means it. Chat became quiet. They were just sending messages with emojis seconds ago, and now becoming fearful as you were. Your mouth went dry, and you could feel your throat perk up.
“I can’t, can’t say that.” Your eyes well up, what do you do?
His breath was becoming noticeable. And his voice changed into a more sinister tone.
“That’s okay. I already know anyway.”
He immediately left. And you look to chat. They were just as puzzled and terrified as you were. Shaken to your core, you end the stream. What just happened? It was supposed to be a joke, but now it ended up as something much more threatening and dark. Due to this, you jumped out of your seat, and ran to the door for the third time.
Checking the peephole, hoping to not see a single being outside your unit. Your hands were shaking. Nervous and petrified, you get away from the entrance again. Your brain was playing tricks with you, or there really was someone else playing with you.
Though, you could hear notifications going off in the background. Your fans were concerned for you. Asking if you were okay, if you were safe, and all you could respond with was a yes. It was a troll you assume. A terrible, scary one to be exact. Until a message popped up onto the top of your screen.
Ghost_F: See you soon.
Alarmed, you press onto the profile. It was deleted. Content unavailable. You were fucking freaked out. You called your friends, hoping to be comforted and gain help. But no response avails.
You sat there on your chair instead. Heart beating to the extreme lengths to the point where you could hear it ringing in your ears. Staring at the screen, looking at the message, trying to see if you can decipher its cryptic tone. Hoping to think positively, you put it aside and think it’s a joke. All streamers go through it, having a creepy encounter with viewers, and this is the same thing. Nothing dangerous is going to happen, it’s just some weirdo freaking you out. Right? Yeah it is. It’s just an offhand interaction.
Sighing, you closed the computer and went to the bathroom. Cleaning yourself up and pondering to yourself, if that was really true. And coming back to your bed, relaxing as you scroll on your phone to remind people that it’s just a troll. Mentioning you thousand of times with concern, and telling you it was a real threat. Although, you ignored it. Was it actually a threat? Probably not, because it’s been hours since the incident, and you were laying down on the bed. Nothing was going to happen.
You rest your eyes, and think ahead of the stupid troll. The creep with a sultry voice. You didn’t wanna mind it. It was just a fake threat after all.
You woke up. You heard a thump within the walls. Probably the neighbor's cat is acting up again. With your foggy brain and eyelids, you travel to your hallway and press the light switch to check what was there. You couldn’t tell if there was something black in your eyes, but you presumed it was nothing. You finally ended up in the kitchen from your hazed walk, and glanced at what was ahead of you.
The kitchen was empty. No creepy dude, it was fake!
You walked and got a glass in your cupboards. Your shorts were slowly sliding up as you tried to stretch to get a cup in the back of your cutlery. Feeling your shirt also slowly lifting up as you grabbed the object. Your feet finally face the ground when you are done getting the glass, and you turn your back around. Incline to having it be filled with water.
“Boo.”
The glass dropped. Forget water. You shrieked in horror. It was a man covered in a mask, cloaked with a black hood. The mask was detailed with a look of horror, eyes piercing hollow black, and wrinkles to enhance the uncanniness.
“You’re even cuter in real life.” No. No. No.
It was the killer your chat was talking about. It was the mysterious man who sent you the donation. And it was the user who threatened you on call. It all added up. You could feel you chastise your brain for being so foolish, for being so damn stupid. For being so curious.
“I-Is that you?” Your voice shakes in fear. He responds by caressing your face, and pining you closer to the counter beneath the cupboards you were just rummaging into. You feel your back slowly leaning back into the furniture, as he goes closer to you.
“Uh huh, it’s me baby.” His pet names made your stomach churn.
“Are you happy to see me, hm? I think you should be. I mean, I saw you blushing just by the sound of my voice, sweets.” He cackles at the end of his sentence. He enjoyed this. He enjoyed the way you looked at him with those pretty eyes of yours, pleading for his mercy. It was better than he imagined.
“You’re- you’re the killer? You’re, you’re-“
“Ghostface. That’s right baby. Awh, don’t tell me you’re terrified? Earlier, you said you had a little crush on Michael. I’m exactly your type. Maybe a little more talkative, but you get the idea sweetheart!”
He was snarky, condescending and overall, fucking with you. You didn’t know what else to muster but a little placid gasp as he leaned into you. He was built entirely different from yours, toppling your body. His hold backed you into a corner, defenseless and armless. It was a recipe for the end of your life.
“Look at you. Trying so hard to look away from me-“ His sharp blade went to your throat. Forcing you to stare at his blank dark eyes. You still resisted. “Don’t be such a bitch. I gave a generous donation, didn't I? Let me tell you, it wasn’t easy killing all of the guys crushing on you and stealing their money.”
“The fuck! You freak-“
“Freak? Rich coming from you. Babe, I’ve seen your search results.” He chuckled harshly. Oh god.
“It’s filled with some of the sickest shit. You love a killer. You know it’s so, so, so bad to like a man like me?”
“And your kinks. Oh sweet girl, you’re just asking to be gutted. And not in a bloody way either.” Even if he was covered behind a whole costume, you can practically hear his maniac smile. You can hear the tone of voice being clouded with figments of lust, and you hated it. But you proved his point, you could feel yourself squeezing your thighs, for some sort of stimulation, friction or movement.
“Mhm, I know what you’re doing sweetie. So needy.” His words were going to kill you before he ever could. It made your heart thump and filled your belly with butterflies. The attention was getting to you. You had to start thinking fast, to defend yourself in some sort of way. But his body and twisted words held you back from doing so. Although, that unwashed pan in the sink may be the trick. With no thought, you swiftly grabbed the cooking instrument, and swung into his head.
“FUCK! You goddamn whore, you’re going to fucking get it!”
You ran. Ran as fast as you could like those final girls in the movies you watch. Ran towards your bedroom, hoping to escape by jumping out of a window. It wasn’t the greatest plan, but breaking your leg out of survival, seems to be so much better than being a news headline. As you hastily open the glass window, sliding it in a painful slow motion, you put your whole body to ensure you flee. Outside was waiting for you, and you could see yourself escape from the monster. Just as you were so close to getting out of the building, you felt the hem of your shirt being tugged.
You tumbled down, hitting the floor. He grabbed you away from freedom.
“That was close. Ha, cupcake, you gotta be the feistiest one yet,”
“Makes you all the more of a treat to me.”
He puts his boot onto your back, stepping on your laying body. He tied you up with scattered ropes and brandished you like a present. You could feel your lungs giving up as he put more pressure into your figure, and your eyes started to tear up out of pain. Whines could be heard out of your mouth and you forced curses to be thrown towards your intruder.
“I warned you, didn’t I bitch?” He took a fist full of your hair, making you have to kneel and look at him. Putting you in a position that was very revealing. Right in front of his crotch. It was embarrassing, and yet your body was heating up.
“Just get on with it. Kill me.” Your comment was then returned with laughter. As if you were the one that’s insane.
“No, no, no way sweets. I have so much more to do with you, y’know?” He lowered his body, titling his head as he was now in your eye range. With his movement mocking you, as if you were a little puppy. “I’m doing a favor for you, baby.” His hands traced onto your legs, dangerously reaching down into inner thighs.
“You wanted a sick man to fuck you, right? I’m going to do that. I’m going to make you scream, making up for all the times that I saw you touching yourself, thinking about a slasher like me fucking you. I’m going to make you cry, making up for all those men who didn’t pound you right.” His gloved hands were now placed upon your pussy. Rubbing you up and down on your clothed slit, eliciting sweet sounds from you. You cried out to him, and he responded by making his fingers go faster.
“I’m going to make you mine. The only fucking thing you’ll think about is me, a murderer.” His touch was fucking you stupid, drool slowly dripped out of your mouth. He took notice of that and giggles ensued from his mouth. You were being so obedient, in such little time.
“Good girl. Look at you! I’m just rubbing your cunt, and you’re whimpering like a bitch. Fuck, baby.” There he finally stopped teasing you, and swiftly plunged his fingers within your shorts. A yelp escaped out of your throat, and he laughed even more. Panting, your hand grabbed his wrist, hoping for him to stop going so rough. It was immediately shut down, by his arm pinning your palms down. Showing how much more power he had over you. Manhandling you like a little toy.
“Ha- Ghos- Ghost-“
“You can’t even form a sentence. Fucking slut.” In a second, he stopped moving. He took his fingers out of your insides and you whined loudly. No no no! You were so close!
“You don’t deserve to cum. Not fucking yet. You will when you’re done your part, sweets.” He stood up, and towered over you. His hands were now fidgeting with the zipper of his pants, rushing for his erection to breathe. His ache lasted for hours, even before he came to visit you. When he was calling with you, he was so fucking close to just whipping his cock out and fisting it up and down with the sound of your voice. His obsession with you was that bad. It made him even more insane, seeing you afar and in hearing you, your flesh drove him crazy. With your ass around, he couldn’t focus on writing reports of his own victims, since his attention was all to you. He hated it. He hated how much he needed to fuck you, or kill you, it didn’t matter either way, he just had to have you. To make up for all the times he was too distracted to kill or report on news.
His dick finally came out of his slacks and hooded cloak. You were a little entranced. It’s been fucking ages since you took one in your mouth, probably because of him killing all of your suitors, and you felt unprepared.
“Suck. And don’t even fucking think of putting your teeth onto me.” You obliged. With your hands out of the questions, you made sure your mouth was able to take it. Slowly, you teased upon the tip and quickly made your way down his length. And with that, he responded with grunts.
“Fuckk, god. You’re so fucking good at this cupcake.” His hands fondled the top of your head. Resulting into him tugging the strands of your hair.
“Your mouth is so tight. Expected from a bitch like you. I can’t wait to fucking gut your pussy.” He rasped out, and soon his hands had moved to his rhythm onto your skull. Forcing you to bob up and down his dick. Your throat was now filled to the brim, and you started choking. He could hear you struggle, you mouthing that you couldn’t breathe, but he didn’t care. He kept on going, and your oxygen was dying out.
But he finally stopped when he realized you were going to actually pass out. Controlling himself from throatfucking you to unconsciousness, mainly because he wanted to hear more of your whimpers, but he considered you lucky. “Breathe babe, breathe.”
Taking a fresh gasp of air, away from the penetrating taste, he held your hair to the back. This probably was the only time he was ‘kind’ to you. And then you quickly went back.
Thrust after thrust, he was coming close. It was noticeable as his hands were becoming more frantic. Craving for a release. All the while you were squirming your legs for some sort of stimulation. The wet pooling onto your panties was driving you insane. You needed to be filled up, bad.
Finally he came into your mouth. The tangy substance filling up the space. Little drops were slowly falling down but he quickly wiped it from your face, looking proud of his work.
“Swallow it for me babe.”
You obeyed.
“Atta girl.”
You got up. But he quickly deflected your action.
“Ah ah. I’m not done yet.”
You looked at him with a furrow. As horny as you were, you still hoped this would be done shortly. But he still continues. Fuck.
“What- I thought-“
“Mr. Ghostface, please don’t tell me you’re gonna fuck me!” He mocked. “C’mon, I like my toys stupid, but you can’t be that fucking dumb babe.”
He pushed you into the bed. You lay upon your sheets catching your breath, and your cute top had a little peak of your breasts. Your face was filled with slob, and your shorts were absolutely drenched. A beautiful sight indeed.
“Wait, before I ruin you, let me just-“
He whipped out a camera from his back pocket.
Click!
“That’s it baby, that’s it.” He constantly rubbed on your thigh as he did a whole photoshoot of your body. Your back arches little by little as he continues to stimulate your skin. And his hand slowly takes something out of the backsides of his pants. A knife. You yelped out of surprise.
“Oh baby, don’t worry. I’m just going to remove your clothes. I’m not going to hurt you,” He snickered. Putting the blade upon the fabrics and ripping it apart to give a pathway. But he intentionally cuts a little part of your skin as he forcefully parts your pants. Allowing him to brand you. “Yet.”
Finally, you were bare. Fully naked and vulnerable in front of this clothed intruder.
“You look even better up close, y’know? Fuck. I just knew you were perfect for me.” His dick was caressing your folds, making you scrunch your eyes in response to control your whimpers. You were so sensitive, that little tears started forming from your eyes. “Maybe I should just fucking take you away. Maybe I should just keep you in some basement, naked and shivering, huh? But knowing from you, you’d probably fucking like it.”
“You’re a whore, you know that?” All you could respond was cute little grunts to his stimulation and comments, “Mhm, but you're my whore.”
He inserts it with no warning. You gasp out of shock. His dick was really caressing the corners of your insides. And you could feel contraction from the penetration. It felt like it couldn’t fit at all.
“Sh-shit! So god damn tight! God-“ Ghostface was spasming from the way you tightened around him. Even with the slow pace, it felt agonizingly strained and painful. But you didn’t mind at all, because of how much it was stretching you so well. Filling up the need and wants in every right direction.
“So- so much!” You whined. You didn’t know if you were pleading him to take it slow, or go rapidly fast, but you definitely wanted him to keep going. To keep pushing you to the brim until you can’t think anymore, fucked with no words left to speak. To keep rubbing up and down till you start screaming, babbling with no thoughts to fill in your head. You needed this so bad.
“I know, I know- fuck, christ doll.” The masked man shuddered upon his words. He was as smitten as you were. The way your hole pulsed and tightened as he went further. The way your face is all flushed and cute as he rammed into you. The way your breasts move up and down as he makes you spasm and moan. Your cute little eyes, struggling to keep wide open from the hazy sex. He really couldn’t get enough of you. He really wanted to you fuck you up more and more.
“Ha- I knew you would fucking like this. You love being a sick freak taking in a murderer's cock. You love it, don’t you, don’t you baby?” His hands were caressing your skin as you whimpered. The latex stimulating you as your mind runs wild on the touches and senses you were feeling. At this rate, you were going to finish, and it couldn’t help when you were contracting more and more.
“Yeah that’s right. I could feel your fucking cunt clenching me, you gonna cum? Hm?”
You gave no response, too dazed to comprehend what he said. He slapped your face for you to snap out of your drunken phase.
“I said, whore. Are you gonna cum around my cock?”
“Y-yes!” He started going faster. Abusing your cunt even more and more. You started gasping for air with the amount of assault he was doing to you. Bringing you to the edge. “Mr. Ghostface I-Im going to-“
“Aww, it’s so much isn’t it? Well too fucking bad. You can only cum when I say so, so fucking take it. Or i’ll fucking slice your throat into two.” He maliciously spat.
“Or are you that desperate that you would rather have me fucking gut you, just so you can cum? I wouldn’t even be surprised.” Laughing ensued after he remarked how pathetic and dumb you look. You were all mindless, continuously just taking in and out like a toy. And the worst part, you enjoyed it, loved it and wanted more and more.
“I’ll be nice this time. Beg for me.”
“Huh?” You muttered, confused and not knowing what he just ordered.
“I said beg. Are you fucking stupid? Beg. Beg for you to fucking cum. I know how much you fucking need it.”
You swallowed your pride. It’s too late to do anything more to save your face. Look at the state you were in. Sweat, back arching and drool slowly forming from your mouth. Nothing is reputable with this. You looked like a whore. And he knew damn well he made you into one.
“Ple-please.?”
“Is that all you got? Beg. Beg fucking harder!” He slapped your cunt in order to elicit a reaction out of you.
“I- fuck- fuck! Please, pleasee! Please let me cum! Please, Mr. Ghostface! Please, I need it! I fucking need it! I need it so bad! I need you to fucking fill me! Just- let me- me cum!” You were babbling at this point. Saying all of this under his will.
“I need it so bad! I need it. I need you! I need you!” You reached for his mask. Showing how terribly desperate you wanted for some kind of release.
“Atta fucking girl.” He put his mask to the side. “Come here.”
He penetrated with his tongue inside your mouth. You whisper and moan, faltering around his body. Your arms were frenzied all over his shoulders. You were needy. And most of all, so fucking horny.
“You wanna cum? Yeah?”
“Uh huh!”
“Go ahead, sweets. Cum around my cock. I’m gonna fucking fill you up.” There it went, his pace going harder and harder. Louder and more frantic.
“Cum for me. Cum for me, pretty. Cum for your fucking killer.”
And you did. With a loud whine you came around everywhere. A load filling you up as you spasm with his dick still in you. Your body automatically faltered on the bed, tired and so fucking full. He pulled out, having your cunt leak out all the fluids. You were absolutely fucking gutted.
Click!
You heard a camera snap. You would’ve protested but your legs would have probably given up if you tried.
“I’m keeping that one baby. Displaying it on the top of my fridge.”
“Here.” As his last ‘gift’ to you, he marked your neck. A purple bruise, prominent and easily noticeable.
“Stream tomorrow, cupcake. And show my fucking mark on you proudly.”
He wanted to make sure he was definitely your favorite follower. Wanted to show everyone one of your fans that you’re his now. And it was completely obvious with how much he had made you into his.
Next time, he’ll do it live. And maybe, he’ll bring some other fans he knows of.
Maybe that son of a bitch, Michael would join in.
“I’m your biggest fan, sweets. Don’t forget that.” He said, leaving you in your bed, while he left your house.
And he believed that you already knew.
#ghostface#danny johnson#danny johnson x reader#ghostface x reader#smut#ghostface smut#dbd killer#dbd ghostface#dbd x reader#scream#scream x reader
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Shadows are to protect I
Alessia Russo x Putellas!Reader
shadows are to protect II, III, IV
summary~ You just moved to Arsenal and everything was unknown to you but now you had Alessia. Your situationship with Alessia was everything but perfect but at least she was there, sometimes.
this is pure angst
Alessia is your whole heart. You could tell her that a thousand times and she still wouldn’t leave her boyfriend.
He doesn’t even get her, not like you do. He doesn’t appreciate her like you do. It should be you holding her hand on the streets. It should be you kissing her in the bars of London.
You didn’t really know when you started to feel that way. You’d just moved to England, a very scary move from your comfortable and warm Spain. Spain and Barcelona was all you’ve even known. Expending your world was just as terrifying as you’d ever believed.
The welcome was cold, very cold. It was the completely opposite of what you were used to, it was quite literally what you were petrified of. You left the warm sun kissing the dark little freckles on your face and exchanged the English rain dropping down on your hair. You weren’t even sure what to call it, not in English and not in Spanish either.
But even now you weren’t sure if you’d go back and stay in Barcelona. The sun might shine there most hours of the working days but you’d always be in the shadows. In the shadows of La Reina, Alexia Putellas, your sister.
The two coloured club had offered you a contract extension where you’d get paid twice the amount you did last year. You’d driven to the club like you did most days but this time you had one thing in mind, or so you thought. Signing for another three years and being the average defender in the team for whenever one of the original starters couldn’t participate.
A red and blue pen rested between your thumb and point fingers as you listened to your manager talk about the future. But most of it fell to deaf ears. “Alexia and you would be the head of the Champions League campaign. Imagine this, the Putellas hermanas on top of Europe.” he said full excitement. It wasn’t the whole campaign that set you off but how he began his sentence, ‘Alexia and you’.
You were sitting here, ready to sign your contract, for your future. They wanted you to sign and still their first thought was Alexia.
Without saying a word you stormed off. You were not doing this again for three more years.
You had spiked interest from multiple clubs, not only Europe but America too. But when Arsenal let your agency know that they wanted you, you knew that that was it. From now on you’ll be a gunner, through and through.
You got picked up from the Airport. With a sign reading ‘Putellas’. It felt good. They didn’t have to clarify which Putellas sister they were picking up, there was only one in London now, you. The bigger man, he might’ve even be twice the height of you introduced himself. And with the little English you had in store you thanked him and told him your name.
The man you now knew as Keith was a simple man. He opened the door for you and didn’t say much. You liked it that way, the silence was fine by you. You liked that the intimidating car you were sat in had tinted windows. Not so you couldn’t be seen but because it gave you some sort of comfort. When you were younger and Alexia was a rising star she had you sit in the backseat, where nobody could see you and where you’d be safe she’d say.
The little droplets of rain were doing races and you had lost for about the twentieth time when the car came to a stop. Keith grumbled something about being there and got out. You didn’t really know what to do and what they expected of you so you opened the car door. Picking your bags up you placed your right foot outside and your left followed.
It all went too fast, Jonas showed almost all the rooms in the building and the wet pitches that were not in any state to be used. You had to film a few shots for your signing announcement, get through a few medical test and finally got to go home.
Keith drove you to your temporary apartment just a few minutes away from the training ground. You had a streak of almost one hundred days of English on Duolingo so you thanked the tall man in the few words you had learned to say and got out of the black Range Rover.
You were home. You were home, you kept repeating those words but you didn’t believe it. You were home.
This is it now. North London is your new home.
The appartement was empty except for the blank furniture, it had no personality and it was hard to think there ever would be. Four white walls, a grey couch, a black kitchen and an all white bed in the middle of your bedroom. They didn’t even tell you that the kitchen would be just as empty as the apartment.
The sound of a notification alarmed you out of your emotionless state. You forgot to put your phone on do not disturb. ‘Where are you?’ it read. Alexia knew you didn’t sign for Barca the day before but she didn’t know you’d be gone by the morning. Tapping on the do not disturb mode you traveled to your all white bed.
And that is how it went, do not disturb mode on. You we there, at the training ground and the games but not really there. You weren’t in the right mindset to talk to anyone yet and that’s why it was so goddamn frustrating when McCabe or Mead tried to get you to talk.
You sat alone at lunch, didn’t go out with your teammates and barely stayed in contact with your sister. That was until Alessia Russo came into your life.
You didn’t mean to let her in. You decided early on that you were at Arsenal for your career and career only. But she changed that, so quick. And before you knew it you were falling for her.
She came into Arsenal and everyone was a fan of her. It seemed like she was friends with everyone instantly and it made you curious.
Alessia had been a gunner for almost a week when you realised she lived across from your apartment. She came knocking on your door one evening, offering you some of het pasta since she had made too much. You knew that she’d been searching for an opportunity to get you to talk to her but you didn’t expect her to come knocking at your door like that.
You let her in and she started to talk to you. You couldn’t exactly call it a conversation since she did all the talking and you muttered out some broken English once in a while. But even though you hated to admit it, she was nice company. It made you feel less lonely, she made you feel less empty.
You’d told Alexia about your move to Arsenal before it officially came out and she wasn’t pleased, at all. She was mad, mad that you didn’t tell her earlier. You told her what had happened and what was racing through your mind when you made the decision but she just couldn’t fathom out the thought of you feeling that way. And that made you feel even less understood, it felt like your life was slipping away from you and you only made it worse with every next move you made.
But Alessia made you feel like you were okay for a moment. After the first day of eating together she offered you food almost everyday and after a month it became a tradition, you would diner together every single day and she even learned you English. You didn’t really progress in your Duolingo streak and didn’t talk much either so the help was very much needed.
It wasn’t until the first half of the season had been played that you realised you had other feelings for her. You saw her as more than just a friend. It was all going very fast and the feelings intensified by the day, that may be because she was the only one you really could talk to. It hurt you to even think about living without her and that might’ve the first warning you should’ve seen but you didn’t.
It was Alessia who kissed you first. You both had been drinking and the two empty bottles of red wine next to your grey couch were the evidence of that. Alessia was a touchy person, just like everyone in Spain so you didn’t mind. She was giggly and teasing you relentlessly.
“I bet you think about me hmm?” she hummed and started to climb on top of you. Taken aback by the movement you didn’t really react to anything she had just said. “I want to kiss you.” she whispered into your ear that was tinted red by now. You didn’t answer. “I’m gonna kiss you now, okay.” she leaned in, placing her pink lips on your red ones. It was sweet but turned desperate very quickly.
The blonde slept sweetly beside you that evening. The thoughts raced through your mind and none of them were making any sense. It was hard to think straight with Alessia next to you, that was what made things so complicated. But now that she was laying in your bed you couldn’t not have her there, you needed her.
Alessia started to stay over more and more, it became your new normal. Half of her closet was laying in yours and she even brought her favourite mug with her. You bought all her favourite foods so she would feel comfortable and she appreciated it, just not enough to stay with you.
You came home on a Thursday evening one day but Alessia was nowhere to be found. Normally she would be laying on your couch, watching some sappy Netflix show you refused to watch with her. A bowl of nuts in her hands she didn’t really like but it was a healthy snack so it would do. But the only thing you found on your couch was her blue hoodie. Well it was yours originally but she basically claimed it as hers now.
Putting your cold groceries away you walked towards Alessia’s front door. She had given you her spare key after leaving hers in her home, locking herself out for the second time. She had bought a keychain with it, a little Barca jersey with your name and number on it. You smiled down at the colourful jersey and opened the door.
Walking in you heard some laughter coming from the living room that you could describe in detail. It was a light living room with two big windows that were open at all times, she liked it that way. She bought a brown couch after you broke her beige one. You had gifted her a few plants to make the room a real living space but knew she didn’t really care for them so you’d come in and give them water.
The photo’s in her hallway were those of her mom, dad and brothers, who she adored so much. And even though she didn’t like to have pictures of herself in her home she had one of her and her best friend Ella after winning the Euros.
When you stepped into the living area you were a bit taken aback by the man sitting next to your Alessia. His left hand was draped over her shoulder, like it was the most normal thing. His right was resting on her thigh. Who was he?
You stood still, watching the pair until Alessia noticed you. Her eyes had gone wide. “Hey, what’re you doing here?” she asked carefully. You didn’t answer. “Luke, this is my teammate, and well, this is my boyfriend Luke.” she introduced you and stalked towards your frozen form.
Boyfriend? You thought..
Alessia gave her boyfriend some weak excuse and walked you back to your apartment. You were in your own home again, a safe place. When Alessia started to talk again you cut her off. “I- you have a boyfriend? I thought we had.. something?” you looked almost lost to her. “Well, you thought wrong. Whatever you thought we had, we didn’t.” she said without any emotion behind her eyes, like she hadn’t spent the whole of last week in your house, in your bed, wearing your hoodie.
She left your house like nothing had happened.
Were you really that stupid, did you really think she’d like you. You had created this whole other reality, one where she’d actually like you and wanted to be with you.
You kept to yourself even more now. Alessia had gotten you out of your shell to some extent but now you had crawled back in again. Every moment you weren’t training or playing football you were at home but it didn’t feel like home anymore. It wasn’t as empty as it was when it arrived but it felt like it. The life had gone away and that’s not something you can fix with a few overpriced paintings and some weird cactus.
You couldn’t eat dinner without Alessia, you couldn’t watch horrible movies without Alessia and you just couldn’t sleep in a bed without Alessia.
It was the one time you decided to go out and drink that she came over to talk to you again. She acted like nothing had ever happend, like it was back to normal again, like she had slept in your bed the day before. But you liked it, craved it even. You had longed for Alessia to come back again and save you from yourself.
So she ended up in your bed and stayed long enough for you to fall asleep. But not long enough for you to wake up to her scent or her sleepy blue eyes and messy blonde hair.
It went on like that, she came home with you for the night and you forgot about all the things she had done to you and you woke up to an empty bed. You did feel bad for the Luke guy, well you did in the beginning but somewhere along the way you started to lose that sympathy.
You were mad. Angry. He could drive her to training and hold her hand out in public. He could kiss her on the streets and wake up to her snuggled next to him. He could have all those domestic little moments and gestures you longed for. It wasn’t fair.
Alessia had prepared dinner for the both of you and you were watching a movie when you felt the need to talk to her about this whole situation. “Lessi, i really like you. I want you and i to be together because i love you.” there, you said it. Alessia didn’t look at you, she stared blankly at the movie infront of her. You reached for the distraction playing on the television and paused it but she still wouldn’t look you in the eyes.
“I love you.” you repeated again, hoping for a response. She sighed, “Look, i don’t know what you think we are but we aren’t that. I don’t know how many times i have to tell you this but i have a boyfriend and you’re just there for a quick fuck. That’s all. You’re not special just because your sister has won a few trophies. I can’t do anything about the fact that you’re fucking lonely but leave me out of it.” she hissed.
You just said you loved her, for the first time. You handed her your fucking heart and she stomped on it like it was nothing. Alesia knew your relationship with your sister was complicated and being in her shadows was something that hurt you the most in this world, but yet she brought it up. You’d told her everything you never dared to say out loud and she used it to damage you even more. She is your whole world but to her you’re a ‘quick fuck’.
You were hers but she’d never be yours
“Please go away.” you asked her, tears threatening to escape your tired glossy eyes.
You were left alone in your apartment and the loneliness was more torturous than ever. The fucking lasagna Alessia had made you had turned cold and you looked at the wooden table infront of you. There was a picture of you and Alexia framed, Alessia had printed it out to make you feel more like home but it only made you miss it more, especially now.
Looking at your phone you opened your chat with your sister. You hadn’t texted her in about a month, the last text being about your mothers birthday that you couldn’t attend.
You needed her, you needed you sister to protect you. You needed her to protect you from the sun and to place you in her shadows again. For once it was all you desired.
A/N let me know what you think of the fic!! Also, i don’t know if i should write a second part and if or how i should end up Alessia and R together. I could make R fall in love with someone else too??
#woso x reader#woso fanfics#woso community#engwnt#alexia putellas x reader#alexia putellas#alessia russo#alessia russo x reader#arsenalwomen#arsenal wfc#arsenal women#arsenalwfc x reader#barca femeni#barcelona femeni#barca women#angst#shadows are to protect
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happy halloween, loverboy - okkotsu yuuta
word count: 7.3k warnings: heavy making out, alcohol (everyone's of age) summary: you leave your halloween costume a surprise to yuuta. and he's very surprised. other notes: unestablished relationship, lots of flirting/teasing, down bad yuuta
happy halloween everyone! 🎃
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“I don’t care what time you show up. All that really matters is you show up in costume- you guys do have costumes… right?” Nobara’s eyes shift away from where she was dutifully filing her nails to send a sharp look across her friends.
Halloween was a very important holiday. But it would lose all of it’s whimsy if even one of them showed up without a costume. She couldn’t bear to be seen with a loser that thought they were better than dressing up for the hell of it.
“Of course!” You’re the first to speak, over enthusiastic with a grin that displays just how excited you really are.
It had been quite some time since you’d celebrated the holiday- you think maybe you dressed up once or twice as a child, but soon after being whisked away by Jujutsu Higher Ups you’d forgotten the fun of the festivities. So when Nobara found a bar that was encouraging it’s patrons to dress up for the 31st, the plan was set and you were agreeing in a heartbeat.
You’d chosen your costume fast, rushing to the store with Maki and Nobara to find something fun- it was your only requirement, you had to be excited by whatever you chose. And when your eyes landed on what you deemed to be the cutest package, you skipped right over to your friends with it, grinning like a fool as you held it on display for them. The girls gave you their approval instantly, barely looking at the details of your costume before matching your grin and nodding their heads. You’d assumed they were just as eager as you were for the whole ordeal.
“You got a costume already?” Yuuta spoke up from where he sat next to you. There was an air of indifference about him, the way he was tilted back in his chair with his arms crossed over the white jacket he always wore. But something in the way he asked, and the way he turned to you with a slight pout told a different story.
“I might’ve gone at the beginning of the month…” You admitted, a guilty smile on your face when his frown deepened. Had he wanted to go costume shopping together? You weren’t sure why exactly he was pouting. You and Yuuta were close- really close- but he hadn’t voiced an interest in shopping for the occasion until now.
“I already went too, I’m going to be a pirate!” Yuji announced from the other end of the table, sparking a few others to pitch in what they were planning on dressing up as. But none of them stole Yuuta’s attention, he remained focused on you.
“What are you going to be?” He asked, leaning into the table with his elbow now so that he could prop his head on his hand.
“Not telling,” Your guilty smile turned cheshire as he raised an eyebrow. “It’s a surprise!” You added, just so he knew he wouldn't be able to coax the information out of you. Although if he really tried, you’d probably give in. Yuuta huffs, accepting defeat.
“Fine. I s’pose I’ll surprise you, too” He decides he’ll have to do some last minute shopping on his own. He could only hope there was still a good selection, and he wouldn’t wind up with something embarrassing.
“Really?” You lean forward as you beam, delighted by the idea. Yuuta nods his head in agreement, and it’s decided. You’ll both show up at the bar in undisclosed costumes to surprise each other with. It’s a simple thing, but you can’t deny your curiosity for what sort of thing Yuuta would pick.
And Yuuta’s nerves start to eat him alive as his mind wanders to all the things you could’ve possibly chosen… it only gets worse when Maki catches his eye with a tell-tale smirk. That truly peaked his interest.
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The bar is full of zombies, fairies, devils, and miscellaneous characters each trying to get a buzz and have a good time. It’s entertaining enough just to look around at the creative costumes every person who entered wore.
Yuuta had arrived fairly early in the night, he and Inumaki agreeing to meet up around nine to find a decent enough table for all of their friends. And, of course, they got a head start on drinking.
Inumaki was a very convincing vampire, complete with fangs and a little bit of fake blood- even going so far as to cut his bangs into a neat v shape. He’d certainly committed to the bit. Yuuta couldn’t help but wonder if he’d come to regret the impulsive haircut come tomorrow, but he’d wait to put money on it until the rest of his friends were here. Or at least, until you were here.
He couldn’t deny he was antsy to see you. It was no secret that he spent most of his time waiting for you to walk into the room- or seeking you out if he had to- but tonight there was an electricity in the air as he awaited your arrival. Yuuta had been racking his mind for days, wondering what sort of costume you’d show up in. That character you’re always gushing about? Or one of those simple animal costumes? Something with fishnets? His leg was bouncing underneath the stool he was seated at.
No one had given him any hints- least of all you- but Maki and Nobara couldn’t contain their giggles and secret looks anytime the subject of your costume came up. It only dialed up his curiosity- and he couldn’t be sure if that was a good or bad thing.
Yuuta’s own costume he felt was a bit lackluster, but he’d put as much effort into it as he could have. A white doctor’s coat- you had said white suited him- with blood splattered over it meticulously by his own hand, with blue scrubs underneath with the same red dye all over it. To him it was obvious that the halloween store was too picked over for him to get his first or second costume pick, but this would have to do. It was sort of cool, he supposed, but he didn’t care much. He only hoped you would feel differently when you saw him, that you wouldn’t be disappointed after he’d said he’d surprise you.
Their other friends began to filter in one by one, each with a costume that seemed fitting enough to them. Nobara and Maki were first, clearly having pregamed during their getting ready process. Nobara was in a striking red dress with a long wig of red hair, and Maki at her side in a form fitting red jumpsuit with a little cottontail pinned to the back and bunny ears on a headband in her hair. Jessica and Roger Rabbit, that was unexpected, but no one could be shocked. Nobara was clearly very proud of her wig styling abilities, as she tossed it over her shoulder constantly as they sat and ordered drinks.
Next came Megumi, who got a frown from Nobara when he approached the group in a blue cargo jumpsuit.
“What are you supposed to be?” She asked, her finger tapping the rim of her margarita with an irritated tap tap tap of her nail. “A mechanic?” Her disgust is evident in the snarl on her glossy red lips.
Megumi fishes into the pocket to pull out a crumpled rubber mask- clearly Mike Meyers- but once his costume is revealed he stuffs the mask back into his pocket. Nobara opens her mouth to protest that by not wearing the mask, he’s barely in a costume, but Maki is quick to whisk her away for another drink from the bar.
Yuji is never far behind Megumi, and he shows up with you in tow. Megumi raises his hand to the pink haired boy at the door, letting him know where their table was, and everyone turns to catch a glimpse of his costume.
He looks great, in raggedy black pants and a half buttoned striped shirt. He even got an eye patch and a bog captain’s hat. He’d wanted to get the peg leg and the bird to pin to his shoulder- but Megumi had talked him out of spending a stupid amount of money for one night of dress up.
Yuuta can’t say he really noticed Yuji’s perfectly put together pirate costume, because right behind Yuji came you.
He choked on his drink, coughing loudly and spitting some of it back into the glass. Inumaki tries to pat his back to get the last of the burning rum out of his throat, but it’s no use. With Yuuta’s eyes still trained on the girl beside the pirate, he continues to cough up a lung.
It dawns on him now that he’s rarely seen you outside of your uniform. Even then, you were a jeans and hoodie kind of girl. So watching you stride through the bar dressed to the nines as a french maid had him in a chokehold. He couldn’t help but stare, not blinking once as his eyes tracked every movement you made. The frill of your shirt skirt bounced softly against your upper thighs, and in perfect time with the gentle bounce of your tits in the perfectly tight top of the dress.
Yuuta had to cover his mouth with his hand- the coughs had subsided but the gape in his jaw couldn’t be helped and he needed to hide it somehow before you noticed him and caught the shameless way he watched you.
The table is silent, all eyes on you- except Megumi who’s made room for Yuji to sit next to him where he instantly complains that a parrot would’ve suited his costume better- and when you aren’t the one being stared at, Yuuta is. Toge’s already giggling to himself, knowing this night was about to get way more exciting.
“Happy halloween!” Your smile is too sweet, too angelic for the costume you’re wearing. Yuuta’s still covering half his face, the slow drag of his eyes over your long, fishnet covered legs not going unnoticed. With all the ruckus of the partygoers, your table seems particularly silent. “What’s wrong?” You pout, worriedly glancing over your friends for an explanation as to why they seem so bored compared to everyone else.
Your eyes land on Yuuta, who’s straining to maintain eye contact with you, but with his large hand covering his mouth, he’s unable to answer your question. Fuck, when is his voice going to come back?
Maki and Nobara get back at the table then, and they bring the energy back with them.
Nobara’s drunk squealing when she sees you, fleeing Maki’s side to oggle you up close, her hands wandering over your figure but never quite touching. Some words are making it out of her mouth, you think you hear ‘damn’ and ‘sexy’ a few times, but for the most part she’s just bouncing and making high pitched noises of approval.
“Holy shit, (y/n/n),” Maki is standing still, eyeing you just as slowly as Yuuta had. “I knew it was sexy but I didn’t know it was that sexy” She mutters in surprise.
You glance down at yourself, your hands smoothing over the little white apron on the front of your skirt as you start to second guess the costume.
“Is it too much?” You ask, but just as a frown is starting to form, you’re being directed away from the table.
“Let’s go get a drink”
Yuuta is on his feet, at your side, and practically pulling you towards the bar with an arm around your waist in an instant. You think you even feel a tingle of his cursed energy, but just as soon as you feel it, it’s gone.
“Yeah, alright,” You smile at him, finally taking a moment to notice his costume. Wow, he looks good in white even when it’s covered in blood. “I like your costume,” You tell him, looking him up and down one more time once you’ve reached the bar. “You’re like a… evil hot doctor”
The laugh that Yuuta lets out is strained, as he has to push past the lump in his throat first, but it seems to make your smile last a minute longer as he nods back at you, finally removing his arm from around your waist.
“I wasn’t really going for evil, or hot,” He admits, and you shrug a shoulder too casually in disagreement. “This is sort of all they had left”
“Well, it works,” You say, again, too casual in the way your eyes move up and down over his figure. Shouldn’t he be the one looking at you like that? “Have I ever told you that you look good in white?” You ask him in a tone that seems serious, like you really want him to know this. Yuuta chuckles, and he has to pretend to be interested in the handles of liquor on the wall behind the bar when he responds.
“You might’ve mentioned it,” He mumbles, before turning his gaze back to you. It’s hard to look away from you too long. His eyes land on the frilly white piece of laze you’ve attached to the top of your hair, a cute little maid’s headpiece, and something he can focus on without feeling like a dog. “Looks good on you too” He compliments, reaching out to brush his fingers over the lace. He’s just as quick to retract them though, his mind wandering too far as he connects the dots between you and lace.
Your giggle brings his attention back to you, and he’s surprised to see a blush blooming across your cheeks.
“Thank you, Yuuta,” You hum sweetly. Too sweet. You can’t look at him like that, don’t you know he’s going to drop dead any second? He rubs his nose, discreetly trying to check for any blood. “So you like my costume then?”
His hand is covering his mouth again as he gives you a once over, as if he hadn’t gotten the full image when you’d arrived. Of course he had, the little black dress with white accents and a frilly skirt that sat perfectly around the curve of your ass, the fishnets that wrapped up your legs so perfectly, the pair of black heels that still didn’t have you reaching his height but god you even made shoes sexy.
And then you had the audacity to give him a little twirl, to showcase your costume, just for him- although Yuuta’s not naive enough to believe he’s the only one with eyes on you right now, he knows you’re doing it just for him. His heart hammers in his chest.
There’s a pretty white bow tied around your waist, laying neatly at the dip in your back where your skirt fans out. The urge to reach out to it, to tug on the end of the ribbon and bring you closer, has him latching his hands around the edge of the bartop. It was a strange feeling, not being able to trust your own hands, but Yuuta refused to perv on you.
(Any more than he already allowed himself to anyway).
A dry spell spreads from his lips, through his mouth and down his throat- there’s not a single appropriate thing he can say to you right now. So a nod of his head and a wobbly smile will have to do. You seem amused by this, smiling up at him in a way that makes your pretty eyes crinkle. Even your makeup has a grip on him- flawless, every part of you.
“A good surprise then?”
“Great surprise” His voice betrays him, coming out in a low rasp you’re just barely able to hear over the music and chatter at the bar, but again, you only brighten up at him.
“Well, I’m glad you think so”
Was he still in fantasy land or was that… cheeky?
The bartender, a perfect depiction of Beetlejuice, finally gets to the pair of you, and you’re quick to order two shots and two rum and cokes. Yuuta can’t argue, but he’ll always be amused by your ability to throw back alcohol only to order the easiest thing on the menu.
“Should we bring a round of shots back to the table?” Yuuta asks, thanking the bartender once the drinks are poured before they’re off to take the next order. You hum in thought as you pick up the tiny glass and turn towards him.
“Maybe later,” You shrug. “I just want to hang out with you for a bit”
The dryness in his throat is back. This shot is going to burn.
“Just me?” He asks, wondering if you’d pregamed as hard as Nobara and forgot who you were with. You nod. “You sure?”
You nod again, this time followed by a string of laughter.
“Yes, Yuuta, I’m sure,” You tease, before lifting your shot towards him, beckoning him to take his. “Now are we toasting to halloween or what?”
Yuuta hopes you don’t notice the shake in his hands as he grabs his glass. Suddenly, he’s fifteen again, and seeing you enter Gojo’s classroom for the first time with your cute braided pigtails and a pretty smile. The air is sucked out of his lungs, and his eyes are trained to follow you, and only you.
“Happy halloween” He touches the rim of the small glass to yours, making a small spill as some liquor drips over the edge of the glass. The grin that stretches across your lips is beautiful and unhinged, and he knows this won’t be the only shot you take tonight.
“Happy halloween” You repeat in your sugary voice.
And just like that you both tilt your heads back and let the liquor burn down your throats. Yuuta still feels like a teenager, fighting the urge to couch as he gulps it down his dry throat. He slams the shooter back on the bar top and is quick to reach for his drink, taking large swigs.
Chasing rum with more rum wasn’t his greatest idea, but he wouldn’t come to realize that until a little later.
“So,” When his voice sounds normal again, he turns back towards you. You look back at him with your full attention. “Did you pick this yourself?” He asks, gesturing vaguely to your outfit.
“I did,” You answer, a slow smile stretching across your lips. “Thought it was pretty” You add, giving yourself a once over.
You couldn’t deny the confidence boost this particular costume gave you. It sure beat out the sheet you cut holes into when you were a kid and thought you were the perfect spooky ghost.
“Mhm, mhm” Yuuta hums a few times as he nods his head, and you hardly notice your toes twisting your foot back and forth at the ground, your heel lifted just enough to swing back and forth in a slow motion.
“You think so too?” You ask.
“Huh- what?”
“You also think it’s pretty?” You clarify, trying not to appear too amused by the nervous look on his face, or the flush creeping up his neck that was starting to reach his cheeks. You weren’t totally blind, it was clear that Yuuta was having some sort of reaction to your costume, but you’d like to have some fun with him before making him outright admit it.
“Yes,” His answer tumbles out of his mouth too quickly, his eyes widening just a bit before he tries to give you a more normal answer. “Yeah, I mean- yeah, it’s pretty, you’re pretty, you look pretty in it”
He flatters you too much, especially with his habit of nervous stammering, it has you giggling and beaming like he’s paid you the most romantic compliment. You know he has, he just lets his nerves get on top of him and then his vocabulary is depleted.
“Why thank you, loverboy,” You swirl your straw in your glass a few times before you bring it to your lips to take a sip.
Your teasing is going to be the death of him, it truly is a cruel torture. Not to mention loverboy spoken by your voice, curled in one ear, muddled up his brain, and flew out the other. You’d never called him that before- you never called him anything before! Maybe a slurred ‘Yuu’ in passing after a rough mission, late at night and when you were more asleep than you were awake. But before that, there was only ever Okkotsu, and Yuuta.
Never loverboy.
His face was effectively pink now. He took a few more gulps of his drink.
“I was hoping you’d think so” You finish your thought after a few more sips. Not an ounce of your amusement in Yuuta’s pink cheeks is contained.
“You were?” He asks, far too quickly.
“Mhm” You smile and nod, seemingly distracted when you catch sight of Panda entering the bar. He seems proud of his clown costume- a rainbow afro, polka dot tie, and ridiculously large shoes- you have to agree, it’s impressive. Although the other patrons of the bar were more impressed by his ‘panda suit’ than the silly clown accessories.
Yuuta barely glanced at his bear friend squeezing through the crowd of drunks before he was looking right back at you again.
Was this all purposeful? A carefully calculated plan of torment?
You turn back to him with a pretty smile, your lipstick still perfectly intact even after all this drinking. Before he could stop it, all he could think about was ruining it for himself.
Were you evil?
His adam's apple noticeably bobs as he takes a dry swallow. Your smile only brightens.
“And uh- why’s that?” It’s hard to control his stutter, so his words come out a bit choppy and awkward. With a large sip of his drink, he hopes you’ll brush it off as an after effect of the alcohol and nothing more.
“I dunno,” You shrug a shoulder and Yuuta wonders if you’re feigning indifference or if this is all part of the torture. “Guess I care more about your opinion than the others”
His glass is almost empty. If he didn’t order another one soon he’d have nothing to keep his attention- respectfully- on.
But your confession is delayed to his ears, and it’s obvious in the way that his eyes soften on you a few moments later, his empty glass forgotten on the counter.
“Y-you do?” The stutter is back, but it’s hard to cringe when she looks at him so sweetly, as if just standing there with him was all the more company you wanted for the night. Was it?
You place your empty glass beside his, catching eyes with the bartender long enough to swirl your finger over them both, sending the message that a second round would be required soon. When you look back at Yuuta, you find that he’s managed to keep his eyes at your level this whole time. You have to laugh, even if it makes his neck flush pink.
“I do,” You answer his question a bit too late, as if you’ve almost forgotten to respond at all. To be fair, his gaze is piercing and it’s hard to think about anything else at all. Carefully, you take a step closer to him, which is already a few steps closer than you’ve ever been to him before. Like this, anyways, purposefully, when there’s plenty of space for you to situate yourself at the bar, you’re choosing to invade his own space. When his eyes remain locked on yours, you tilt your head a bit, curiously. Your voice drops to a whisper, but you’re close enough now that he can hear you just fine even in the loud environment, “Even when you’re feeding me a bunch of respectful bullshit,” You add.
Yuuta allows his eyes to lower just a little bit, just enough to watch the movement of your lips as you speak. He doesn’t dare let them stray any further, too afraid that if he caught sight of how close you were standing now that he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from pulling you in the rest of the way until your frilly little thing you called a costume was ruffled and ruined up against how own-
His throat bobs again, and he’s trying desperately to think of something to say, but all words are getting blocked up and make less and less sense the more he tries to say something.
Your eyes sweep his features, lashes fluttering softly as you take in the color in his cheeks, the part of his lips, the hooded gaze he greets you with that makes your insides shiver and melt all at once. You’re not sure he has any idea, you’re not sure there’s much thought behind those eyes at all.
Something tells you Yuuta’s put all of his energy towards keeping eye contact with you.
“Yuuta,”
You call his name softly when it’s been a few beats too long of basking in the tension. While you love the tension, you’re going to need him to say something, do something, before you combust. Glazed over blue eyes flicker back to life when he drags them away from your red painted lips and back to your own gaze. He’s blushing, probably since he’d been caught staring for so long, but there’s no sign of embarrassment when his eyes refocus on yours.
Beetlejuice replaces your empty glasses for refreshed ones, knocking twice on the counter to get your attention before walking away. They clearly weren’t sure either one of you would notice the fresh drinks waiting for you since you were so busy eating each other up with your eyes, but they don’t linger too long, off to take another order at the other end of the bar just as quickly as they had gotten yours.
“I feel like you’re holding something back,” You say, reaching for your drink while only tearing your attention away from him for a split second. That split second was long enough for you to miss him, although he’s standing so close to you that you could feel the heat radiating off of him. Straw between your lips, being held in place by your teeth crushing it hard to maintain your air of indifference, you bat your eyelashes at him tauntingly. “And I’d really like to know what it is”
“No, you don’t” He finally speaks, the words coming to him in perfect time. It catches your interest, your eyes lighting up with amusement.
“Now I really do!” You say, a girlish giggle overtaking you before you could help it. It forces a smile on his lips, although it’s more nervous than anything else.
“No, you just want to get a rise out of me” He argues, gritting his teeth to maintain some semblance of composure. He’s not doing a very good job, but the attempt is there.
“So you’re saying I am getting a rise out of you, loverboy?” You ask, and you look all too excited by the idea. If Yuuta wasn’t sure before, he is now- you’re evil.
He takes his drink, forcing himself to look away from you as long as he could stand. He can’t deny he misses the sight of you as soon as it’s gone, and he cheats a little by keeping an eye on you in his peripheral vision. If Inumaki were around, he’d tell him he’s whipped. Cooked. Done for. He wouldn’t be wrong, either.
You’re getting comfortable with the little nickname, with a cheeky smile as you press in closer to him again, invading his view when he’s trying to remind himself of the value in your friendship, of how much he respects you, and not about things like how plush your chest feels when you lean up against his arm.
He takes a few long gulps of his drink, half the glass depleted by the time he releases the straw.
You decide to give him a little break, leaning off him in exchange for wrapping your hand around his forearm, tugging just enough to pull his attention away from the bar.
“Will you walk with me over to the touchtunes box? I left my phone with Yuji, and he and Megumi disappeared ages ago”
When did you even have time to notice that? Yuuta wonders as he finally gives the table of your friends a glance. He almost could have forgotten they were here. Sure enough, Yuji and Megumi were nowhere to be found. Typical.
“Yeah, let’s go,” He agrees, nodding for you to lead the way. You hold your drink close as you plot out the best path through the crowd, and Yuuta follows close behind.
His hand reaches for your waist, but he hesitates before placing it there, so he lets it hover, just enough that if he needed to in a moment’s notice, he could grab hold of you. But trailing behind you is enough for now.
Besides, from behind, you won’t notice the deadly look on his face when he catches anyone else looking at you. It doesn’t matter where their eyes are directed, you’re not there for any of them.
His fingers twitch, barely tapping you on the hip as you slither through the crowd. It’s enough to gain your attention, your head tilting to glance at him from over your shoulder. His eyes are elsewhere, still scanning the people you’re passing by. You smile, amused by his antics, before you wrap your free hand around his wrist. Yuuta’s looking at you again as you both pull him closer, and place his hand properly at the dip in your waist. Then you’re facing forward again as you reach the modern jukebox.
It appears there’s a long queue already going- figures, with this crowd, everyone has already added their favorite songs to the playlist- but you figure you’ll be here a while anyways, so no harm in adding your own.
“How many times do we really need the Monster Mash in one night, hm?” You mumble to yourself as you scroll through the long list of songs already on the queue. “Spice it up a little, people”
Yuuta’s not sure if you’re talking to him or yourself, too focused on the soft silk of your dress under his palm. He has yet to work up the strength to pull his hand away from you, and if anything, his grip has only tightened since you’d led it there. He hovers behind you like an apparition that’s been chained to your soul. Tall, dark, and looming, with no intent of moving.
Not that you mind, tapping away at the screen to find the song of your choice to add to the mix. If anything, you seem more delighted with yourself than before, singing along to the Monster Mash despite your complaints, and sipping on your drink.
“Any recommendations?” You ask after you’ve selected a few songs for yourself, and one that you know Nobara would love to hear.
“Hm?” Yuuta hums in question when he realizes you’d been talking to him, and he’d been too deep in his thoughts to catch it.
“Songs, loverboy, any songs you want added?” You tease him for spacing out, casting him a grin he can only describe as wicked.
“Oh,” He pouts at your teasing, and then shakes his head. “No, pick whatever you want”
“Okay,” Your eyelashes flutter at him and his hand tenses against your hip. But you’re already focused on the touchtunes screen again, finishing up your work.
When you’re done, though, you return your attention to him completely. You spin around, your frilly little skirt bouncing with your movement, brushing against his legs with how close you stand. You make sure to keep a gentle hold on his arm, that way he won’t try to put any distance between you now that you’re face to face.
“Now what to do while we wait for the decent music to come on?” You ask, your tone suggesting you had a few ideas, but you’ve been waiting for Yuuta to open up and let loose all night, so you hope he’ll read your mind and pick out something he likes for himself.
He takes a swallow, eyes flickering between the small smirk curling at the corner of your lips and your impatient gaze. Your friends were sure to notice your absence eventually, but then again Yuji and Megumi seemed to be missing as well and no one had come searching for you both yet. So maybe you had a little more time to yourselves.
So with a surge of confidence, Yuuta leans a little closer towards you, until his lips are close enough to your ear that he doesn’t have to speak much louder than a murmur for you to hear him.
“Why’d you really want to hang out with me all night?”
He leans back to get a good look at you after he asks his question, basking in the heat rising to your cheeks. Your smile almost looks bashful now, and his eyes linger on your lips a bit too long as he waits for your answer.
“Like you said…” You speak slowly, “I thought it’d be fun to get a rise out of you,” You admit, trying to maintain the confidence that you’d come into the night with. It gets a little harder as Yuuta’s the one initiating entering your personal space. His fingers had started to draw lazy circles against the silky fabric you wore, and it proved to be enough stimulation to make your mind a little foggy. “Which… I was right”
“Well I’m glad you’ve had your fun” He sounds a little bitter that you’ve had so much fun all on your own and at his expense, but you’re quick to lift his spirits, and curiosity.
“I’d like to have s’more,” You say, peeking up at him from under your long eyelashes with enough hope and excitement behind your eyes that Yuuta’s stomach flips, and his hand stills at your waist again.
He’s silent for a beat too long, and you tilt your head at him as you gauge his reaction. His words are stuck in his throat again, and his face is turning that shade of pink you think is so cute- you can’t stand it any longer.
“Yuuta, if you don’t make a move I think I might have to start begging” You whisper, a breathless laugh following your words as a nervous chill spreads down your spine, covering you in goosebumps.
A similar shock courses through Yuuta’s system, and it’s like his body finally comes to life. Both of your drinks are on a table and his hands are wrapping around your waist so fast and this time you’re sure that’s his cursed energy prickling in the air like static electricity. You barely have time to catch your breath before he’s backed you into the touchtunes box and pinned you there.
“C’mere then” His lips brush yours as one of his hands slide around your jaw to guide your lips to his. You’re able to suck in a breath at the last second before his lips envelop yours, but it reduces you to a weak little gasp that he swallows instantly.
Your last shred of dignity thrown out the window, you melt under Yuuta’s kiss and give in completely. Turns out with enough pushing and shoving, you could get him to break, and what a well played game it was. His mouth is dominating over yours so perfectly, controlling the kiss to his every whim and desire, leaving you no choice but to follow his lead and submit.
With all of your inhibitions lowered, and no thought left on your mind that didn’t revolve around Yuuta, your every move was delayed yet frantic. It takes a few minutes of lip locking before you realize your hands are dreadfully empty, and the next thing you know they’re all over him. Grabbing his arms, the front of the jacket he wore, then his shoulders- and your touch was far from gentle. You gripped onto him like your life depended on it, as if you would fall down if it weren’t for him grounding you. Even though you were pinned against the jukebox with no wiggle room for escape thanks to Yuuta’s larger frame.
He tilts your head back further, teeth grazing your swollen lips before diving back in and deepening your kiss. There’s so much he wants to tell you now that this line has been crossed between you, but he doesn’t want to waste even a second of this moment, so his lips cover yours again and soon enough he gives into the need to explore your mouth with his tongue.
Your knees are growing weak, so you let all of your weight rest between his hold on you and against the machine. You’re hardly on the planet earth right now, and it shows in the way you make sweet noises against his mouth and the way your hands tug him closer by the front of his shirt, pulling as if there was any possible way he could crowd you even more than he was. If you had any control over your own legs, you’d climb up his torso like a tree just to get closer, but you don’t, so you settle for pulling and tugging on him.
Amongst the little whimpers and whines between kisses, you finally let out a strangled noise that sounds close enough to his name that Yuuta finally breaks away. He’s not far, his nose still pressed against yours, his lips still close enough that he can feel every pant, but he can no longer push down the desire to get a good look at you, at what he’s reduced you to.
Your lipstick is ruined, smudged all around your lips and staining your skin, and he probably looks the same. It takes you a second to open your eyes, and gather your bearings, but you don’t fare much better than him. Your grip on his shirt remains firm, letting him know that you won’t be letting him break for long. And you haven’t even caught your breath.
“You make the prettiest maid, baby,” He murmurs, his thoughts catching up to him when your eyes finally flutter open, heavy and tired but still light up with a look that has him wanting to devour you again. Baby rings in your ears the way he says it, low and murmured, his voice a little raspy, you’d like to hear it a dozen more times. Yuuta must be able to tell by the way your cheeks flush and your lips twitch. “You’ve been messing with me all night, don’t get all bashful on me now” He chuckles, grinning from ear to ear as he watches you try to hide it, too.
Knowing you wouldn’t be able to hide the butterflies currently destroying you from the inside out, you decide on the next best thing, wrapping your hand around the nape of his neck and pulling him back in for another kiss. You’re both just as lost in it as the other, with Yuuta’s hands roaming up and down your sides, tickling your ribs and setting fires with every new inch of your body he touched.
When his reach lowers, trailing down the skirt of your dress and grazing over your upper thigh, you don’t think twice about lifting your leg, and he doesn’t think twice about pushing in closer with a new grip on your leg keeping you snug against him. You finally get a noise out of him, the faintest groan against your mouth as his teeth graze your lip again, this time giving into impulse and biting down on the plump swollen flesh. Simultaneously, his fingers dig into the plush of your thigh and you hardly remember where you are when you start to tug on his hair in an attempt to elicit more noise out of him.
You’re floating away, focused on nothing other than the way he feels against you. Any shred of awareness- social or physical- is lost or destroyed. You couldn’t care about much other than the feeling of his hand creeping up your leg and skimming under your skirt, or how his tongue feels like velvet when it rolls against yours.
“Oh my god, sluts!”
You come crashing down when you’re so rudely interrupted, Yuuta’s lips tearing away from yours, and at the same time, you both catch your friends, catching you, with a mix of emotion on their faces.
Maki was the one that barked at you both, pulling you out of your trance and reminding you of where you were. She’s rolling her eyes, while beside her, Nobara is giggling behind her hands and bouncing on her feet.
As you and Yuuta both scan your friends’ reactions, you slowly pry apart. His hand sliding back out from under your skirt and finding a more respectful spot on your waist, steadying you as you lower your leg from his hip and set a wobbly heeled foot back on the floor.
“Were you guys watchinggg?” You drawl, a tipsy giggle tumbling out of your lips as you cover your pink cheeks with your hand.
“No!”
“Bonito flakes!”
“We just wanted to check out the queue on touchtunes, but you two were too busy fucking on it-!”
“Maki!” Nobara squeals through her laughter as she scolds her girlfriend.
“We were not!” Yuuta finds his voice to defend himself, but with a face as red as his, he loses all credibility.
“Were too!” Maki argues.
“Your hand was up my skirt” You mumble up at him, and he shoots you a perplexed look.
“Who’s side are you on?” He mutters, and you bat your eyelashes a few times to regain his affections.
“The side that gets us out of here faster?” You suggest.
“Gross!” Maki shouts, grabbing Nobara by the hand. “We’re not looking for the other two, I’ve watched enough smut for tonight!” She’s still shouting her distaste while Nobara waltzes beside her.
Inumaki mutters a few rice ball ingredients before he heads to the bar. You have a feeling he’s ordering himself a shot of the strongest thing they have to offer.
Panda just grins, straightens his clown tie, and follows after his vampire-dressed friend.
Leaving you and Yuuta alone again.
You smile prettily up at him, your hands resting against his chest, one finger tracing a splotch of fake blood.
“That was kind of exciting” You admit, your eyes focused on the movement of your finger while Yuuta was gazing down at you.
“Which part? Making out or getting caught?” He asks, his brows already furrowed as he was afraid of your answer being the latter.
“Both?” You muse, glancing up at him and smiling devilishly at the worry in his features. “You wanna go get caught somewhere else?”
“You’re serious?”
He’s dancing the line of concern and amusement, but it only takes a little tug from you to drag him towards the hallway where the bathrooms were and he’s following your lead. Was it a good idea? He didn’t know. He didn’t care. Following behind you he could watch the perfect way your frilly little skirt bounced and any rational thought flew far from his mind.
“You’re gonna keep this costume, right?” He asks when you drag him into a stall and lock the door behind him. This time, you’re the one backing him up against the wall as your hands dive back into his hair.
“I would if you asked nicely,” You murmur against his lips, stealing one sweet kiss before tilting your head back again. “Might take a little convincing, though”
Yuuta sighs helplessly, chasing after your lips and pulling you in closer. He had the perfect argument in mind. As well as a few other ideas of what to dress you up in.
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Hey, can you write a story about Evan Buckley and Reader announcing that she’s pregnant to the 118 at like a family gathering :)
🍄 Pairing: Evan Buckley x Reader
🍄 Genre: Fluff
🍄 Summary: At a 118 family gathering, Buck's overprotective nature reveals a little more than the two of you had planned.
🍄 Word Count: 1618
🍄 Abbreviations: N/A
🍄 Warnings: Pregnancy, implied pregnancy complications
🍄 Note: I really liked this request Anon! I hope this is what you were looking for. I thought about this scenario and I instantly imagined Buck accidentally announcing the pregnancy rather than planned. If you would rather a planned version, just pop in another request. A similar request came from @quinnstan247. Enjoy :)
You could feel the eyes following you closely as you slipped into the kitchen to refill your glass of orange cordial. Your overprotective, puppy-dog boyfriend remained outside in the garden of the Nash household along with the rest of the team as they stood around Bobby and the BBQ grill. You knew that Buck was searching for any reason he could to follow you inside, but you met his gaze through the windows and offered him a reassuring smile that seemed to subdue him for the minute.
Since the second you found out, Buck had been glued to your side. It had been three weeks since you took that test, since your doctor had confirmed it and in that time you had, had to convince him every single day that he could leave you and go to work. Every day he fought you, wanting the both of you to stay home so you could rest and he could wait on your every want and need, but you couldn’t do that. You were only thirteen weeks along and there was hardly any reason to be confined to the bed just yet. You knew that he was only concerned about the safety of you and the peach you currently carried in your womb. It was endearing and one of the sweetest things you’d ever seen, you hadn’t thought that Buck could get any sweeter, but here you were one act away from having a mouth full of cavities.
What hadn’t helped was that Buck had been responding to a number of pregnancy calls in the past few weeks a few resulting in sadder endings than anyone wanted. They had definitely struck a chord with Buck and had only made him hover all the more.
Adding the water to your cordial, you took a sip of the orange, a light buzz filling your taste-buds. You had become obsessed with anything orange flavoured since your pregnancy diagnosis. Whether it was orange skittles (which Buck had kindly sat and sorted out for you), or orange flavoured chocolate, or even the orange flavoured cupcakes you had found at the grocery store and ate within an hour of buying, anything orange and you were all for it.
Walking back into the garden, your entire body seemed to clench a little as you stepped back into the gaze of the sun. As much as you were enjoying this down time with the 118, it was so hot. The heatwave had only hit LA in the past few days but already it was in full swing and you were feeling every beam of it.
“Y/n,” you turned over to where Athena was sat with Hen and her daughter May. The three of them were stood around the mini bar that Athena had installed, in direct sunlight. Already hot, you fought down the urge to grimace as you moved to stand by them, the sun glaring on your skin. “We were just telling May about Buck and that kiddie ride at the mall. She doesn’t believe us.” Hen informed and a grin split across your lips, taking your mind off of the sweltering heat.
“Oh my, God. I have a photo, hang on,” You pulled your phone out of your shoulder bag and set your drink on the bar, thumb flicking through the many photos in your gallery in search of the one from the Saturday before. “He thought it was funny and I tried to tell him he wouldn’t fit but he insisted,” You giggled and turned your phone for May to see. “I honestly thought I’d have to call nine-one-one.”
Displayed across your screen was the photo that still had you giggling a week later. There sat Buck, who had squeezed his way into the small metal bus which was obviously aimed for children 7 and under. But Buck had twisted his body at all kinds of angles and had somehow managed to worm his way into the ride. His head was poked out of the door hole, his legs curled up against his chest, unable to stretch out in the tiny space that his body was occupying.
What Athena and the others didn’t know was that Buck wouldn’t have gotten into the ride if it wasn’t for you. That morning your hormones had been playing you like a fiddle and every little thing had upset you, the bin bag had broken when you were trying to change it out for a new one, somehow a red sock had slipped in with your whites and now everything you owned was slightly toned pink and they had shown that advert with the puppy sat in a box, in the rain, on the side of the street with people walking past ignoring it. It seemed, that morning, that everything was stacked against you. Buck had offered to come with you to the mall so you could pick up your clothing order from a store, you had ordered certain items that they didn’t have in stock and they had delivered into the store the day before. You were buzzing to see the new pair of pumps you had ordered. You knew that in a few months if not weeks, the shoes would probably be pressing against the sides of your feet and ankles because of the pregnancy swelling, but that hadn’t stopped you from ordering them in your size. However, like everything else that morning, even that didn’t go as planned. The shoes had been delivered in the wrong colour and in a size smaller than you wanted, making them impossible to wear. Buck had seen how disheartened you had been when you left the store, trying not to cry in frustration. He had wanted to do something to cheer you up and in a joking manner he had made a bet with you that he could fit inside the kiddie bus ride.
It had definitely succeeded in cheering you up, if not from how silly he looked, his large muscular frame curled up inside the ride, from when he got stuck and couldn’t get himself out straight away. You had done what you could to help him out, but you were giggling so hard your entire body went weak. When he had finally gotten out, the two of you had continued to giggle all the way home and your mood had been lifted for the rest of the day.
“Oh, my God,” May giggled. “That’s the funniest thing I’ve ever seen. Please send me that!” she begged.
“Of course,” you agreed with a laugh of your own. “I could never gate keep on a photo like this.”
“What made him get in there?”
“It’s Buck, does he need a reason?” Hen scoffed. As the ladies continued to giggle, the heat seemed to make it’s presence known as it glared down onto you. The side of your temples was beginning to throb and your skin was starting to get slick and sticky, sweat oozing from your pores. You raised a hand to swipe at your brow, glancing around the garden for the closest seat, your legs aching.
As you moved towards one of the sun loungers, your boyfriend’s eyes caught onto your movements, already on high alert.
“Y/n? What’s wrong?” he asked, abandoning his drink at the grill and rushing towards you, one arm slipping around your waist to help guide you to the seat.
“Buck, I’m-”
“Dammit, it’s too hot out here for you. We should’ve cancelled,” he began muttering to himself. “Are you dizzy? Do you need a drink of water? What about something to eat? Is your blood sugar low? What if you’re dehydrated?” The only thing making you dizzy was the hurricane of questions Buck was sending your way, not even leaving a chance for you to answer them. One of his hands instinctively came to rest on the front of your stomach.
“Babe? Baby?” You tried to pull Buck out of his panicked rant, his eyes not once meeting yours as he kept scanning you for any visible injuries. Not that there were any, but the paranoia was getting the best of him and the heat probably wasn’t helping.
“We should get you in the shade,” he decided. “Shit, you should’ve stayed inside. You’re carrying precious cargo now, baby. You and peach can’t take this heat. We shouldn’t have come. This is all my fault-”
“Buck!” You pressed your hands to the sides of his face, directing his eyes to yours so you could try and ground him. “Buck, baby, I’m fine. We’re fine. I’m just a little hot and tired that’s all. It’s normal.” He still seemed a little uncertain, and his eyes held a lifetime of worry for you and his unborn child. “We’re okay. I promise.” You offered him a reassuring smile, your thumb coming to brush against his bottom lip rhythmically, giving him something to focus on. His eyelids pressed shut as he breathed slowly for a second.
“Are you sure? ‘Cause we can go home-”
“We’re fine. I just need to sit for a minute that’s all.” You peeked over his shoulder. “While I’m sitting, we should probably talk to the people behind you, they seem a little shocked. You kind of let the cat out of the bag.” Buck twisted his head to look around at the team behind him, everyone stood, jaws dropped and eyes wide. Eddie was the most comical of the bunch, his glass halfway raised to his mouth ready to take a sip but frozen in time with the news that Buck had unintentionally shared.
“H-Hey, guys,” He chuckled awkwardly with a sheepish grin. “I guess we have some news to share.”
#evan buckley#evan buckley x reader#evan buckley imagine#even buckley oneshot#buck#buck x reader#buck oneshot#buck imagine#evan#evan x reader#evan oneshot#evan imagine#911#911 x reader#911 oneshot#911 imagine#9-1-1#9-1-1 x reader#9-1-1 oneshot#9-1-1 imagine#request#requests open#reqs open
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CAN’T REMEMBER TO FORGET YOU
[before you read this, check out the rest of the story!]
— running away from alastor wasn’t so hard the first time, who says you can’t do it again while pregnant?
alastor; the monster you call husband. he was absolutely by all definitions, obsessed. he never left your side— cooking all your meals, escorting you everywhere, even watching you sleep.
he proudly announced your pregnancy on live radio, sealing that you are his. no man will want for you anymore, he has defiled your purity. he clung onto you like a leech, draining away what little happiness you had left.
you just had to get away from that monster. you couldn’t stand another second in this hellhole house, everything in it was a cruel reminder that you’re trapped with no way to escape.
well, you’re not gonna just fall into his trap. it was then that you had planned to run away. far into saint bernard, where no one knew who you were.
and with that plan in mind, you packed all you could and ran. running south with wild abandon, you needed to run far as far from alastor as possible.
you took shelter at a rundown motel while you got back on your feet, taking a singing gig at a club down the street.
you sang well, earning favorable tips from the drunk men who desired you, wanting to see what else was underneath your signature loose flowy dresses. and with that money, you were able to afford a small house with the basic necessities. well, enough for when your child was born.
being a single mother had been rough, when you went to work at night, you entrusted your son, noah with one of your neighbors who you had grown fond of. you sent noah off to a public school, it was not the best, but it was all you could afford.
soon enough, your hard work truly paid off, you were able to live much more comfortably, buying your son the things he could ever want for.
true, there were times that your son wondered where his father was… and to that, you decided to tell him the complete truth; of how alastor is an evil man, a sort of big bad wolf. and, how you ran away to protect him and keep him safe from that wolf.
and, to him, that was a reasonable explanation.
7 years passed by, your son grew into a handsome little boy. handsome, yet you couldn’t look him in the eye. everyday, as he grew up, he started looking more and more just like his father; the tuft of chestnut brown hair, those piercing eyes, and that smile— it was all resembling the monster you ran away from. it seems as if all that your son inherited from you was your heart.
as you walked over to the bar, you spotted your co-worker mimzy slacking off. it wasn’t often that your shifts had co-incided, but the two of you still remained aquaintances. she was apparently talking up some fellow, probably trying to milk some cash out of him.
and as you took a peek of the poor soul mimzy had decided to prey on, your frame froze. was that alastor? what was he doing so far out from new orleans? your breath hitched as you walked back, trying to move as far away from that wretched man.
maybe you shouldn’t buy heels from thrift stores anymore.
the heel on your right foot snapped as you fell onto your butt. this had caught the attention of alastor, excusing himself from the conversation as he walked towards you.
you shuffled back into the crowd as best as you could, crawling away before he could get his hands on you. and still, you weren’t fast enough. alastor bended down by his waist, a smile plastered on his face. “why, say it ain’t so! if it isn’t my darling wife.” he laughed. “ex-wife.” you corrected. “ah-ah” alastor tutted, wagging his finger. “wife. we never had a formal divorce. did we, dear?”
“whatever…” you scoffed, still moving back. “say, where is our child? the one you’ve hidden from me for 7 years? i’m sure they’ll be delighted to meet me after you’ve kept us apart for so long!” he rambled on. “get away from me, alastor. you’ll never meet my child.” you said, finally getting back up on your feet, albeit the broken heel. “won’t you at least tell me their name?” he pleaded, doe eyes begging you. the doe eyes that made you crawl back every time.
“…noah. his name is noah” you frowned, glaring up at alastor. “noah. what a beautiful name for our son.” he mused. “now, would you leave me alone?” you hissed, pushing him away.
despite his lanky frame, alastor had barely moved. “my love, do you think i of all people would let you off the hook so easily? all the scheming, forcing you into an affair, into running away, crawling back to me, even following you far into this club— i wouldn’t want it all to be for naught…” he frowned, explaining his plan as he backed you into a wall, a predatory shine in the way he stared at you.
alastor planned it all..? all the ‘hardships’ you faced— all of it was in some elaborate scheme. no word could’ve described the overwhelming betrayal that overcame you. you just wanted to get out of this club, run home to your son, and run farther away. to another city, a different state, or even a different country! anything to keep him far away from his father. “now that you’ve had your fun, dear… i think it’s time you and noah return home. you can’t keep my son away from me forever. plus, my mother has been dying to meet her grandchild!” he laughed, holding you by the waist.
alastor took note of how you submissively agreed, letting him take you back to your true home. it seems you finally learned your lesson; there’s no escaping alastor. no matter what you do, it’ll end with you back in his bed, back in his arms.
“come now, my doe. it’s not safe to leave noah alone at home.” he chided, opening your side of the car door. “he must be quite confused right now. after all, he’s in the room we had prepared for him all those years ago, he must have no idea where he is right now!”
ah…
there was no use keeping alastor away.
he’d always find his way back, even through drab methods.
#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel#alastor#alastor x reader#alastor hazbin hotel#hazbin alastor#hazbin hotel alastor#hasbin alastor#alastor hazbin x reader#alastor hc#alastor headcanons#human alastor#alastor the radio demon#yandere alastor#yandere hazbin hotel#yandere
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Desert Light
Cryptid Sightings/Signs of Life Crossover
Commission Info
My dear friend @jackofallrabbits commissioned me for a darling little crossover of Cryptid Sightings and their fic, Signs of Life, with @maudiemoods's permission, of course. If you haven't read Signs of Life, you really should and you can find it right here! I had so much fun writing both the cryptid hunter and the scientist interacting, and both monster boys are delightful here! I hope you enjoy <3
———
At nightfall, the desert is dipped in inky blues under a starry sky spilling over the entire expansion over your head. You forget how big the desert feels without trees or mountains to cut into its horizon as if the very heavens are staring down at you with twinkling eyes. The dry ground becomes darkness littered with muted sagebrush. The road is cracked and sunbleached, rocking your dark green truck and airstream. Along the lonely stretch of road, a convenience store with fluorescent lights cuts through emptiness like an oasis of gasoline, candy bars, and potato chips.
Moon hunches low in the passenger seat. Pale eyes gaze at you through the dimness within the truck's cabin. Patches along his nightcap catch on stray starlight, winking on the stitches you sewed by hand.
“It’s late,” he rasps in a low voice.
“I know, sweetie,” you sigh and rub your eyes while keeping one hand on the wheel. “We’re almost there.”
“You’re tired.” His hand strays across the seat to rest on your leg. His cool digits jolt you gently back to alertness.
“It’s only half an hour more,” you give ruefully. “Let’s stop here. I’ll grab a soda then we’ll be on our way.”
He grumbles, vibrating his animatronic vessel with displeasure. A word against caffeine is surely on his tongue, but the jostling from pulling the truck and airstream onto the cracked pavement underneath the almost neon-white light of the gas pumps cuts him short.
The desert hosts paranormal encounters ranging from the chupacabra to aliens. The latter is why you ventured here. Without F.E.I. providing you exact intel and evidence, it’s up to you to conduct your research and discover possible sightings but what you’ve unearthed so far has been solid.
This one in particular speaks of an alien. A towering but thin, long-limbed being spotted around a motel just as remote and lonely as this convenience store. You throw the truck in park and hop out. A lone car is parked alongside the building and another is parked further away, as if trying to hide away from the lights.
Soundlessly behind you, despite the bells tied around his wrists with ribbons, Moon appears like a metallic shadow. Hopefully, the convenience store attendant isn’t against animatronics in their store. He tilts his head for a moment towards the outermost vehicle, his pale optics narrowing before he follows after you.
If he sensed a heartbeat hiding in the darkness, he would have told you.
You pull open the door with a quiet jingle announcing your entrance. A small sign, old and worn, on the checkout counter promises the attendant will be back in a few. You deflate slightly. You had hoped to ask someone in this area about the sightings.
“There’s someone here,” Moon murmurs close to your ear like a breath from a ghost.
Quiet footsteps echo back beside the fridge section of drinks, concealed by shelves of beef jerky, peanut butter cookies, and chocolate bars. Curious, you strive forward. You might still have a chance to speak to the lone employee who may be restocking the cases of beer or soda, but when you round the corner with a cool presence at your back, you stop still.
A person straightens, clutching a few water bottles to their chest, their eyes immediately landing on you, framed in glasses. You look down to the hoodie they wear: dark fabric with a green alien face; a charming, stereotypical depiction of extraterrestrials. Do they sell those here?
“I like your hoodie.” You smile. “Do you work here?”
The person immediately fixes their glasses and beams. “Thank you. It’s a bit too warm for this climate but it’s cute. No, I don’t work here. Is that an animatronic with you?”
You blink but turn back to allow Moon more of an audience with the curious stranger. He regards them with a coolness but no malice. You give a slow nod.
“This is my friend, Moon.”
The stranger steps closer, studying him with vim and vigor before adjusting the many water bottles in their arms. Underneath their arm, tucked into their armpit is a notebook. They lift a hand towards Moon.
“What model are you?” they ask, eager. “How long have you gone without maintenance? Your wires are exposed and your endoskeleton could use a polish.”
Moon stares. A slight twitch runs through his limbs. You step back between Moon and the stranger, your pulse jumping slightly at the spew of questions—many that have no good answers. Could they be familiar with where Eclipse found their half-burned, abandoned vessel?
You introduce yourself quickly, keeping Moon behind you and out of reach of the stranger. “What’s your name?”
They slowly lower their hand, disappointed. “Ah.” They’re silent for a moment, and you can see the gears working in their mind before decidedly saying, “You can call me Doc.”
That’s funny. Surely it must be a nickname though you have no qualms with a stranger giving you whatever moniker they please, but Moon’s hand falls to your shoulder. His digits curl slightly over your collarbone, as if in warning. Right.
“Alright. Doc,” you smile.
They smile back. “Is your animatronic—”
“I’m sorry,” you say, very apologetically but firmly, “but I was hoping I could ask you a few questions about happenings in this area.”
Doc grows still, their expression guarded. You catch their eyes flickering towards the door and then landing back on you.
“What are you referring to exactly?” they ask tentatively, almost nervously.
“There have been reports of unusual occurrences in this part of Nevada.” You wish you bought your book of cryptid information with you. If they’ve seen anything, you will need to write it down. Instead, you focus on slowly bringing them into your question. If you went around asking any person if they saw aliens right off the bat, no one would take you seriously. “Have you seen anything strange or simply unexplainable?”
“UFO sightings in Nevada are very common,” they say so bluntly, it causes you to blink. They set the water bottles down on a shelf occupied with chip bags and shift the notebook closer to their chest, holding it like a shield. “Did you know that Nevada has the highest rate of UFO sightings per capita in the U.S.?”
“I did know that,” you say, impressed that they know it as well. You lean closer in your curiosity. Do they believe in cryptids? “Have you researched such things before?”
They fix their glasses and lower their hand back to their book only to lift it again and fidget.
“Recently I have,” they admit.
A coolness radiates behind you. In the corner of your vision, Moon tilts his head. The bell on the end of his nightcap falls over his shoulder. What doesn’t he like? Surely they can’t be a rulebreaker. Moon would have reacted much less pleasantly to such a person.
They touch their glasses again, and the frames fall slightly askew on their face. “Have you heard anything about an alien?”
You brighten with the question. At last.
“Yes. That’s why I’m here,” you hold a hand to your chest, “to locate any confirmation or evidence about an alien sighting near a motel a little ways from here. Nothing has been reported as violent, but it’s most likely an incident will occur soon unless properly dealt with.”
Their hands furl and unfurl, anxiously touching their glasses, pushing them up the bridge of their nose, and shifting. Are they alright?
“Most of the time sightings of cryptids, including aliens, are just everyday objects seen from a weird angle,” they ramble slightly.
You pause, watching them. Are they afraid to tell you what they saw? You’ve encountered poor, terrified people who fear even speaking a word of what they’ve experienced will mark them as unstable and insane. Even worse, it might somehow lure the presence that frightened them in the first place back.
“Yes, that’s true,” you admit, but only half of the time. There have been a plethora of hoaxes, pranks, misunderstandings, and of course, misidentifications of objects that have been spun into debunking the cryptic world, but you carry the scars from a true encounter at the base of your thumb. “But have you witnessed anything you would consider to be unearthly?”
Do they know something they can’t seem to tell you about?
Doc shifts again. Their hand strays to the notebook they carry, and touch the well-worn spine. Is it as important to them as your cryptid book is to you?
“No,” they fidget a few times anxiously, “Is there anything I can do to help you with your animatronic? I am an engineer.”
Moon twitches behind you. Their eyes immediately fall to the movement and frown.
“Are you experiencing a malfunction?” they ask, and start to reach out again. Moon clenches your shoulder tighter.
“No, no!” You hold up your hands defensively. “That’s very generous to offer, but Moon is fine, thank you.”
They frown. Unconvinced, they continue to pry around your person to stare at the cryptid possessing a vessel. You’ve never had this problem before. So many people are put off by the strange, inexplicable presence of a demonic cryptid—a sixth sense warning of danger, but Doc heeds no such deterrents.
“He is experiencing micro spasms which may be a symptom of a conduction failure in his wires or a deeper issue within his processor.” They face Moon entirely, and he stares back unblinkingly. “When was the last time you went in for routine maintenance?”
“We don’t need maintenance,” he rasps. You cover his hand as it clenches you tighter still. A coolness swells around him and you hope Doc mistakes it for the coolness of the fridges.
Confusion twists their brow. Doc parts their lips to offer a rebuttal to a clear inconsistency with their framework and the fact of the matter, but Moon twists behind you. His grip never leaves your shoulder, his fingers digging into your collarbone as the jingle of the bell at the front of the store rings.
Then the lights flicker. A sharp fade of every light bulb overhead and even the light within the fridges drops the convenience store into darkness. Your heart tumbles in your chest. You didn’t bring your crossbow or your detector. Only a knife sits strapped to your hip, hidden by your patched, green jacket.
Your eyes flash to Doc. You take them by the arm and their expression shifts to alarm behind their glasses.
“Move,” you whisper sharply. “Stay with me and be quiet.”
“I need to leave,” they say, strangely focused, but they don’t struggle when you guide them down the row of fridges to the last column of shelves in the back of the store. They don’t understand. Something else is here. Something not of this world. You must protect them from it.
Moon follows quietly behind you, his fingers spasming as they curl like claws. His pale eyes dip into crimson, alert and vicious.
“Not a heart,” he mutters, and you glance at him. “Something else… Something strange.”
He stands between you, and your entire body clenches. A towering being begins to prowl under the flicker lights, slipping in through the door. You used to fear your dear friend placing themselves between you and the threat, but they are far more terrifying than any cryptid you have hunted.
The sharp contrast of the fluorescent light bulbs and the sudden darkness spears a sharp ache into your eyes. Carefully, you place Doc behind you, but they offer another protest again.
“Be quiet,” you murmur firmly, “It’s going to be okay.”
“Ah, you don’t understand.” Doc’s eyes fall past you, towards the frosty doors of the fridges. “He’s—”
A sharp scratch of nails cutting over glass causes your shoulders to hunch up and a grimace to twist your face. You free the knife from your hip. It is the only defense you have for you and Doc. You should have been prepared for the alien to strike here, so close to the original sighting site, now creeping in close to find more precious victims to devour.
Doc reaches out, past you.
“You have to let me pass,” they say calmly. “He wants me.”
You turn to look over your shoulder, confusion painting you in flickering lights.
“Who does?” you ask.
The glass scratching stops. You stiffen, reading your knife as Moon tenses. Creeping from the row of fridges, a figure straightens. Tall and spindly, but with an unnerving aura of strength to his long limbs, an alien stands before you. Deep red and galaxy-speckled skin coats him, and you catch a strange symbol on one of his hands, like the moon eclipsing the sun. A dark hoodie with an alien ship covers his lanky form poorly—not unlike Doc’s. A sharp crown of jutting adornments sits upon his head. A waving veil of starlight falls behind his skull.
His three eyes, bright and glinting, like a predator about to bounce, immediately find the person behind you. One eye is dark. His grin splits into a wide, hungry thing with razor-sharp teeth.
“My light,” his voice is low and dangerous, “I have been waiting for you.”
Behind you, Doc looks up at the towering, otherworldly beast, but there is no fear in their eyes.
“Stay back,” you immediately brandish your knife. Moon spreads his arm, ensuring that there is no passing him without going through him.
A dark chuckle falls from the creature.
“You dare think you can keep my light from me?” He spreads his arms, four limbs of sinew and bone, claws flashing with a desire to rip flesh from a body. “I will give you one chance to let my light go.”
Moon stands tall between him, silently gauging him like a proper opponent. Is the alien taller than your sweetie in their true form? You’re afraid he is.
“No,” you breathe, “You’re not taking them.”
A soft sound arises behind you, distress mingling with breath. Doc must be terrified of the abrupt encounter. How could they have ever known an alien would mark them as his quarry?
A snarl rips through his chest, deep and vicious. His hands grope the surrounding shelves, fitting between cookies and candy bars. His hand swipes a few basic camping supplies, spilling ropes and canisters onto the ground. He catches a stainless steel one in his lower set of hands. In effortless brutality, the alien concaves the metal before his claws pierce the container entirely, crumpling it as if it were a soda can. Your gut clenches.
“I will paint this tasteless floor in your blood,” the extraterrestrial growls, gnashing his teeth.
In response, a sharpness erupts from the sides of Moon’s chassis. Shadowy appendages, seeping black ooze over bony limbs with hands and claws of crimson, stand at the ready. You suck in a sharp breath.
“You will not touch a hair on our heart’s head,” an abysmal sound leaves the animatronic, layered and demonic.
The alien tilts his head, eyes widening at the challenge.
“My, my, and what are you? No matter, I will tear you apart.” He laughs again, echoing with chilling amusement. Dread hooks deep into your belly.
“Eclipse, it’s okay.” Doc moves underneath your arm.
Your knee-jerk reaction is fierce. You catch them by the back of their hoodie, scrunching fabric in your fist to keep them tethered close to you. They stop and look back at you. When they smile, it’s heavy. Guilt touches their edges, anchored by worry.
“Ah. I know he’s frightening, but he’s not going to hurt anyone.” They tug on their hoodie, trying to loosen your grip. “You can let me go.”
“Yes, let them go,” the alien licks a dark tongue over his teeth, “and I might spare you all.”
“What—no, he’s…” you stumble over your tongue then stop, confused. “Do you know this cryptid?”
“Ah. Alien,” they correct you. “Yes. Eclipse would like me back now, please.”
Moon glances at Doc. Confusion pulses in his crimson gaze. The end of his nightcap falls over his shoulder.
“They’re not afraid,” he rasps. He stares down at Doc’s chest. He can sense a heartbeat, the rhythm of it, and how fast it gallops in a person’s chest.
Your lips part wordlessly.
There was a time when you believed cryptids were only monsters. Machines capable of great destruction and horror. You never dreamed a demonic cryptid would be capable of kindness and goodness, and care so much for little ones.
Your fingers slip from the fabric. Moon allows Doc to sweep underneath his arms. Their eyes fall to their shadowy limbs, and their hands shift to their notebook. Your heart clenches, caught in the camaraderie urge to take notes of your sweetie’s true form and fearing what Doc would do with such information. F.E.I. is still out there. There are other cryptid hunters.
But they stop themselves. Fixing their glasses, they quickly step back into the alien’s reach. You clench the knife tighter, afraid as four pairs of hands descend upon them.
“We need to leave quickly,” Doc says as the alien kneels and hunches lower to look over the human, combing for harm or mistreatment. “We’ve already made a mess and stayed here for too long.”
“This isn’t a mess. Yet,” the alien answers, his voice murmuring like a lover in the night. The threat is not lost on you as Moon growls a warning. The alien flashes a smug smile, all teeth, and arrogance before he concludes his checkup on Doc. “Let’s go, my light.”
Doc nervously looks back at you, almost as if they would look to say more, explain, or even ask you about Moon’s extra, shadowy arms. Instead, they weakly wave, like this is a goodbye they wish didn’t have to happen.
The alien lifts them into his arms as if they weighed as much as a feather.
“Wait,” you step closer. Two arms, one metallic and blue, one shadowy and crimson, stop you. He keeps you back from the otherworldly being. “Are you safe?”
The alien scowls at you. Doc only smiles softly.
“Yes, friend.” Their eyes linger on Moon. “You’re so impressive. I would love to know more about you.”
A ripple of what you think is jealousy takes over the alien. He turns away with a flash of teeth, and steps quickly, sweeping through the store and out the door with a sharp jingle. In moments, the alien carries the small human out into the night. You stand there, stunned.
Moon straightens. “Their heart is still steady. They feel safe with him.”
Oh.
Moon slowly faces you, two arms touching your sides and holding you close. You lean into his embrace.
“I hope they are,” you murmur. The lights stop flickering in the gas station and the stars outside shine brighter in the darkness. A car speeds away, down the desert road.
#naff's writing commissions#cryptid sightings#signs of life#cryptid!eclipse#alien!eclipse#these two y/ns are friends btw#sources: dude trust me#naff writing
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3:32 am
Pairing: Idol! San x Idol! Reader
Synopsis: being an idol isn’t easy, in fact, especially more so for the both of you when a late-night snack is in need
I slipped into the convenience store just before 4 a.m., the familiar chime of the doorbell announcing my arrival. The cool air conditioning and the low hum of the fluorescent lights create a soothing backdrop to our nightly escapade. I scan the aisles and spot San, who is already here, attempting to blend in. With his black beanie pulled low and his long black-leathered coat enveloping him like a cloak of invisibility, he resembles a character from a low-budget spy movie.
“Hey,” I whisper as I approach. His dimpled smile is both mischievous and reassuring, making me laugh despite the hour.
“Hey,” he replies, his voice barely above a whisper. He gestures toward the snack aisle with a grand, exaggerated sweep of his hand, as if unveiling a hidden treasure chest. “Shall we?”
We venture down the aisles together, picking out snacks with the seriousness of treasure hunters. Every so often, we exchange furtive glances and duck into aisles when another customer appears. Our attempts at subtlety are anything but smooth. When a middle-aged man with a shopping basket full of milk and bread turns the corner, we both instinctively dive into the nearest aisle, nearly knocking over a display of instant noodles. I stifle a giggle as San huddles behind a tower of canned beans, peeking out with exaggerated caution. “Is it safe?” I whisper dramatically.
San squints towards the aisle. “I think so. But we should probably avoid the deli section. It’s too risky.”
We continue our mission, occasionally bumping into each other as we reach for the same snack. Each accidental brush of our hands sends a spark of excitement through me, but also a jolt of panic when we hear a distant rustling. We exchange alarmed glances and quickly retreat to the candy aisle, where we hide behind a display of chocolate bars.
“Mission impossible,” I whisper, “but with better snacks.”
San bursts into a fit of suppressed laughter, nearly toppling over a stack of gum. “Exactly. We’ll be legends in the convenience store underworld.”
As we edge closer to the checkout, the store remains nearly empty, save for a lone cashier engrossed in a book, apparently oblivious to our stealthy maneuvers. We take our place in line, trying to look as casual as possible while simultaneously checking for any signs of recognition.
San places our items on the counter with a flourish, his dramatic movements contrasting sharply with the cashier’s sleepy indifference. As the cashier rings up our snacks, San leans in and whispers, “Do you think anyone’s ever noticed us?” I shake my head, trying not to laugh. “Doubtful. We’re just two ordinary snack enthusiasts trying not to look suspicious.”
The cashier finishes bagging our items, and San takes the bags with a theatrical bow, his tone rising to a mock-heroic level. “Thank you, kind sir,” he says. “Your service has been invaluable. We shall speak of this night in hushed tones.”
We hustle out to the parking lot, glancing around with exaggerated caution as if we’re in a high-stakes spy film. The cool night air is a welcome relief from the store’s chill. As we walk briskly to the car, we both burst into laughter, unable to contain the amusement of our covert operation.
Once we’re in the car and the bags of snacks are stowed, San starts the engine. The drive to our next destination is filled with easy banter and shared laughter. We talk about everything from the questionable taste of some of our snack choices to hypothetical scenarios where we become snack connoisseurs for a living.
By the time we reach our destination, I’m laughing so hard I nearly forget why we’re here. The thrill of our secret outings, combined with the comedic antics of our attempts to avoid detection, make these moments feel magical. It’s a reminder that even in the smallest, most mundane situations, there’s a special joy to be found.
#ateez drabbles#ateez fanfic#ateez imagines#ateez san#ateez x reader#san fluff#ateez fic#ateez oneshot#ateezsan#choi san#san x y/n#san x you#san imagines#san x reader#san fic#san oneshot#san ff#san drabble#ateez x you#ateez fluff#ateez mingi#ateez yunho#ateez#kpopff#kpopfic#y/n x ateez#ateez x y/n#choisan#ateez wooyoung#ateez ff
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Detours & Second Chances
written for @steddie-week Day 5 prompt: Reunion / Getting Back Together Rating: T | wc: 3545 | no cw Another big thank you to @sidekickjoey and @thefreakandthehair for giving this a beta read for me! Read on ao3
Steve had high hopes for this road trip.
Just him, the twins, and the wide open roads with the promise of the beach and Disneyland on the horizon. He knew better than to plan it down to the second, especially when traveling with Mabel and Ollie, but he did hope to keep to some kind of schedule. A few nights here, a couple of nights there, a handful of free time hours carved into nearly every day so the kids could pick which tacky roadside attraction they could visit and then gloat to Aunt Robin about seeing.
What Steve hadn’t planned for was the Winnebago going up in smoke four and a half hours from Disneyland on I-15.
The good news is that it happened just as they entered Las Vegas, Nevada, and not thirty minutes later in the middle of the Nevada-California desert. The bad news is that it happened just as they entered Las Vegas, Nevada on a Sunday afternoon when everyone was trying to leave.
Steve expects the drivers around him to curse and flip him off. At the very least, he imagines them shaking their heads in disapproval as they slowly inch past the smoking Winnebago broken down in the middle of the three-lane highway. And there is some of that, honking horns and judgmental gazes, enough that he has to explain to Mabel and Ollie that showing someone your middle finger is not nice and no you shouldn’t do it to each other. But there’s also a handful of Sunday travelers who take pity on him.
Two truck drivers manage to get their rigs off onto the shoulder and then mosey their way over to see if they can help Steve identify why the RV is smoking. A woman in a mini-van full of preteens in sports jerseys offers him an entire ice chest full of snacks for Mabel and Ollie. Some good Samaritan even makes the half-mile hike to the nearest pay phone to call for a tow truck so Steve doesn’t have to leave the kids or make the track himself with them following behind him.
Forty-five minutes later, they all climb into a yellow taxi while Winnie the Winnebago gets towed away. For a moment, he thinks he’s ruined the entire vacation, but listening to Mabel and Ollie talk about how cool it was to watch the “toe man” do his job eases the guilt.
Unfortunately, the repair shop is nowhere near as exciting as standing in the middle of I-15 — at least, that’s what Ollie tells Steve five minutes after they’ve walked into the garage. Steve tries his best to keep everyone’s spirits up in between filing out paperwork and bargaining with the mechanic over the price of the repairs. He lets the kid raid the vending machine and spread it all out on the worn plastic chairs in the makeshift lobby like some kind of five-star buffet. It’s mainly cookies and chips, a few candy bars, and a granola bar Mabel even generously spent $1.10 on for him.
It’s not the worst meal they’ve had on the trip — that honor goes to the gas station in Kearney, Nebraska, and the hot dogs he knew were a bad idea — but it’s definitely the least nutritious. And, in hindsight, it’s not the best idea now that Mabel and Ollie are hyped up on sugar in a small space with no central air conditioning. He gets it. He’s almost at his wit’s end, too, and he has several decades of patience over them.
He’s hot and tired and so frustrated, he’d break down and cry if he could, but he doesn’t want to upset the kids or ruin the day more than it’s already been ruined. Instead, he puts on his brave Dad Face™, leaves his pager number with the mechanic’s receptionist, and takes the kids to explore Las Vegas.
The city wasn’t on their list. It’s not kid-friendly, and the July heat is anything but welcoming, but thankfully, they luck out and stumble across a hybrid game and music store a few blocks away from the repair shop.
The bell above their door announces their entrance to the quiet storefront as the sweet, sweet relief of the AC hits them. Steve closes his eyes, soaking in the cool air for a moment before Mabel and Ollie are tugging on his hands, trying to drag him in different directions.
Steve knows he should put an end to their bickering that borders on full-on sibling bullying, especially judging by the way they’ve dropped his hand in favor of pinching each other’s arms, but he gets distracted when a figure emerges from the back of the shop.
The footsteps are uneven, which makes sense when an ornate cane enters Steve’s line of sight. He studies it, taking in the impressive woodwork and paint job — Max’s own can is pretty spectacular, but this one is a close second. Soon, his eyes drift from the cane to the hand holding it, a ring on each finger. Silver and gaudy and eerily similar to—
“Holy shit,” the voice says. “Are my eyes giving out on me too, or is Steve Harrington really standing in my shop right now?”
Steve’s eyes shoot up to meet the man’s face — to meet Eddie’s face. It’s been years, shit, almost a decade he thinks, but Eddie looks the same. Older, sure. A few wrinkles around his eyes and a softer belly. But he’s still him. Unruly curls barely contained in a bun at the base of his neck, mischievous eyes, and a smile that makes Steve’s stomach flip in a way it hasn’t done in too long. Yup, definitely him.
“Eddie?”
Eddie laughs, throwing his head back with the same carelessness as he had at twenty years old. Only this time, when he rights himself, he has to reach a hand up to his neck to massage the ache. “Man, this is some cosmic, universe shit!”
“At least it’s the good kind this time,” Steve jokes.
Eddie goes for a full-on hug, Steve an awkward side one, and as a result, they end up with their bodies smushed against each other, arms pinned between each other in the world’s worst hug of all time. But it’s also the greatest, as far as Steve’s concerned.
When they separate, Eddie gives Steve a quick once-over before shaking his head again. “So, what brings you all the way to Sin City?”
“A family road trip.”
“Ah, so the six nuggets and a Winnebago dream came true, then?” Eddie muses.
“More like two nuggets, a piece of shit rental that’s in a repair shop after crapping out on me on I-15, and a co-pilot that doubles as my son’s emotional support stuffed animal,” Steve says, then smiles. “But I can’t complain.”
“Wheeler never jumped on the Harrington Express?”
Steve’s interrupted by Ollie running at him with a vinyl record thrust above his head. Mabel appears a moment later, holding a giant box in her arms that’s clearly too heavy for her. She passes it to Steve, who hands it over to Eddie, who has taken refuge behind the glass counter. As soon as the kids appear, they’re gone again. Steve shouts after them to stay together and not to touch anything. It goes in one ear and out the other if the loud crash that follows a moment later is anything to go off of. Steve winces and looks at Eddie apologetically.
“I promise I’ll pay for whatever they break. They’re a little stir-crazy from being stuck at the repair shop all day.”
Eddie doesn’t look worried about it in the slightest. In fact, Steve’s willing to bet he didn’t even hear the crash, judging by the fond look on his face. It’s a soft smile, almost bittersweet if he had to put a name to it. It looks out of place on his face — almost too earnest, which makes no sense because Eddie is the most earnest guy Steve’s ever known.
“Eddie?”
“Huh, what?” Eddie blinks himself back to the present. When he shakes his head, the elastic holding his hair back snaps, sending his curls cascading down to his shoulders. It’s easy now to see the hints of gray peppered into the locks that used to keep Steve up at night — occasionally still keeps him up.
Steve gestures toward the row where Mabel and Ollie are frantically trying to restack things on the shelves. This time, Eddie snorts and meets Steve's gaze with that familiar crooked smile.
“Don’t worry about them. S’just boxes and shit.”
Steve nods and then grabs a pen out of the cup on the glass counter. He twirls it between his fingers, something about the rhythmic motion calming the silly nerves running wild in his body right now.
It’s just Eddie.
“Nance would kill you for even thinking she’s a part of this circus,” Steve says, then panics. “To answer your question from before. No misses at all actually. Or misters either,” Steve says before he chickens out.
Eddie left before he realized that little fun fact about himself. It was ironic (and tragic), considering he’s the reason Steve even realized it to begin with. Chalk it up to cosmic, universe shit — the bad kind that time.
“Cause that could be an option to, you know. Obviously you know, but it’s an option for me too in case you didn’t know and—“
“Woah, breathe, Steve.”
Steve takes a slow, deep inhale. His exhale is strong enough to send a few of Eddie’s stray curls fluttering before settling back amongst the rest. “Sorry.”
“Stop apologizing!” Eddie throws his hand across the counter, squeezing Steve’s wrist,
It’s silly, but something about the simple touch relaxes the nervous energy that’s taken over him ever since Eddie emerged from the back. A part of Steve wants to blame the relief on the touch, but he knows better. Knows it has everything to do with finally telling Eddie about this part of him he helped him discover.
Steve’s been out to just about everyone he cares about, and now he’s certain he’s told them all.
“So no misses or misters,” Eddie says, before hiding his growing smile behind a curl. “What about Buckley? Is she on the great American family road trip with you?”
“Robin refuses to get into Winnebagos after, well, you know.”
“Can’t say I blame her for that one.”
“It’s just me and the kids. Mabel and Ollie. They’re my kids…I mean, well, obviously, they’re mine, and anyone who says they’re not are fucking idiots, but they’re not blood mine or whatever people say.” Christ, he’s rambling again. “I adopted them. Actually, I was supposed to be their temporary foster parent. I was in my second year as a social worker, and they were two and six months old when they came in the middle of a Saturday night and we had no one on standby. They came home with me, and then they just never left.”
Somewhere in his rambling, Eddie made himself comfortable, pillowing his chin on his hands, elbows sinking into the giant mouse pad that’s stretched out on top of the glass counter. He’s dropped the curl, his bright smile on full display, dimple, and everything when he looks at Steve now.
“I love a good foster fail story,” he cooed. “I have a few myself. Fosters that turned into full-on adoptions. I mean not human kids, cats. And a few dogs. Even a bird. But they’re my kids, you know. I mean, not that what you did is the same thing as me or anything, but I… I’m just going to stop talking now.”
This time, it’s Steve's hand that breaks the barrier between them, reaching out to pat Eddie on the shoulder. A reassuring thing that he hopes conveys that he’s not offended. Just in case, he spells it out for him verbally too.
“I get it. Kids mean a lot of things to different people. If you say they’re your kids, they’re your kids,” he says, smiling. “Robin has a plant, Ferguson. When she first got it she carried it around in Ollie’s baby bjorn because she needed to ‘bond’ with it.”
Eddie laughs, this time hard enough that the case between them vibrates. “Lesbians, and their plants, man.”
“She rescued it from her ex, who was drowning it.”
“We’re just all patron saints of lost things, aren’t we?”
“Guess so.” Steve smiles, then adjusts his own stance so he’s leaning against the counter. Something pops in his back, and for once, he doesn’t make an excuse. Eddie knows all about their aches and pains — the way their bodies are thirty years older than they should be, thanks to their teenage years. He runs a steady hand through his hair, hoping beyond hope that it’s not as greasy as it feels and then turns his attention to Eddie. “What about you? Game and record store sounds like a pretty sweet deal.”
Eddie blows out air in a whoosh and reaches for another curl. “I mean, yeah, it’s pretty cool. Closest I could get to being a rockstar, I guess.”
“Do you still play?”
“Occasionally. There’s a dive bar a few streets over that I perform sometimes. No band, though. At least, not yet. I’m giving myself a few more years; let the gray really come in,” Eddie says, fluffing his curls. “And then I’ll join one of those mid-life crisis dad bands.”
“Solid plan.” He fiddles with the pen again, contemplating if he should ask what he wants, too. Screw it. Who knows when he’s going to see Eddie again — if it’ll ever happen again. It’s best not to leave anything on the table. “What about a partner?”
“Me?” Eddie asks, pointing to himself before laughing. “Nope. No partner. No lovers either, really. It’s just me and the petting zoo. And Wayne, when the old man makes the trip out to visit me.”
Eddie being alone all these years shouldn’t make Steve happy. He should want him to be settled by now, grossly in love with someone who makes him feel special like he deserves. But Steve’s heart is a traitor, and his brain is no better, already imagining ten different ways he could change that.
Had he known Eddie’s been in Vegas alone all this time, he would have visited a lot sooner. Hell, he would have made this their final destination — he’s sure he could find something family-friendly here for Mabel and Ollie. There’s a lake around here or some shit, right? They could have—
“Shit,” Steve says, reaching for his beeping pager. The repair shop number appears on the small screen. “Could I borrow your phone? This is the repair shop.”
“I suppose I could make an exception on my no-customers rule,” Eddie teases. “Phones in my office, straight back there.”
Steve nods and rounds the counter towards the backroom but stops short. The kids. He almost forgot about the kids. “Do you mind keeping an eye on them?” Steve asks, tilting his head to Mabel and Ollie who have finally picked up the mess they created.
“Of course! Don’t worry about them. I’m great with kids.”
“I remember.”
___
Eddie’s office isn’t unlike his teenage bedroom Steve spent many nights in. It has his typical brand of messiness but with an added layer of professionalism. Like, there’s an honest-to-God filing cabinet in the corner, but next to it is a three-foot-tall Yoda statue. Papers lay haphazardly on the desk beside a calculator.
There are posters all over the walls — some Steve recognizes, some he doesn’t — and endless photographs in mismatched frames. At least three wallet-sized frames with pictures of his pets — kids — sit on the desk. There’s one of Wayne and Eddie on his graduation day on the bookshelfnbeside photos of him with Dustin and some of the other kids over the years.
He even spots himself amongst the familiar faces — a polaroid they took one summer in Hawkins. It feels like a lifetime ago, but a part of Steve remembers what it was like to have Eddie’s arm slung around him like that with the sun beating down their faces, causing them to squint in the photo because Jonathan refused to shoot directly into the sunlight.
Steve gives himself another second to soak in Eddie’s office, searching for any other details he can find to fill in the years he’s missed — a pride flag draped over a chair, his business license framed on the wall, packs of half-used nicotine gum instead of cartons of cigarettes. Finally, he makes it to the phone and punches in the number of the repair shop.
___
When Steve resurfaced twenty minutes later, the neon “open” sign that flickered in the window had been shut off. Eddie’s abandoned his post behind the counter, taking up space at a table in the game section of the store. Mabel and Ollie are sitting on either side of him, listening intently with wide eyes as he moves two figures across a board toward a hoard of waiting miniature figures.
“I leave you for twenty minutes, and you’re already corrupting them with your nerd games?” Steve teases, ruffling both Mabel and Ollie’s hair in the process.
Eddie scoffs. “You expect me to believe Dustin hasn’t put them through D&D boot camp yet? Please.”
“Your stories are nothing like Dustin’s,” Ollie says, voice full of awe.
“Yeah, he always wants to skip the fun adventure stuff and get straight to the battles,” Mabel chimes in. “That's why we like it when Daddy gets to be in charge.”
Eddie’s head swivels so fast that the irrational part of Steve’s brain fears it’s going to fly right off. “You DM for them?”
“I wouldn’t call it Dungeon Master-ing,” Steve says, grabbing the back of his neck. The room feels ten times hotter all of a sudden. The AC must have shut off, he reasons. There’s no other explanation for his sudden flush. Not at all. “I really just make sh— stuff up.”
“He’s the best make-believer! You should play with us sometime. Like tonight!”
“Mabel, Eddie’s busy running this store; he can’t just stop to play with you. And besides, we have to get going soon.”
“They fixed Winnie?” Ollie asks, jumping up from his seat.
Steve sighs. “Not yet. That’s why we have to leave. I need to find somewhere for us to sleep tonight that’s—
“—I have a guest room.”
Steve blinks. Is Eddie offering his place to them? His hearing may be spotty lately, but he’s never imagined entire phrases before. Which means—
“I mean if you want,” Eddie says sheepishly this time. “I have a hoard of kittens running around right now, so if you’re allergic, it might not be the best place but—“
“Kittens!” Mabel squeals before rapidly asking Eddie a hundred questions about them, but he doesn’t stand a chance of answering.
“Can’t we stay at his house, Daddy?”
“I really do have a spare bedroom and bathroom. Plus, a couch and a semi-stocked fridge. And I wouldn’t charge you. The hotels around here are going to sense your need and charge you an arm and a leg, trust me.”
Steve would be stupid to turn it down. A free stay in an actual house. A meal he can cook with his own two hands that don’t involve a shitty stove that gives out after a few minutes. Not to mention, a shower with actual hot water.
Plus, it comes with the added bonus of a few more hours with Eddie. Yeah, there’s not a chance in hell he’s turning that down. Not again.
“Alright, yeah. Let’s do it.” Mabel and Ollie shout in excitement, spinning around the table. Eddie might not have the same energy level as them to join them, but his smile says it all.
“It’ll be just like old times.”
“Wait! You guys know each other?”
Steve laughs first, but soon Eddie’s cackle joins him and it really does feel like old times again. “Of course, I know him. What? You think I would let us stay in a stranger’s house? Don’t you know me at all?”
___
Three days later, Steve finds himself behind the wheel of Winnie the Winnebago as she makes her grand return to I-15. When he glances over his shoulder as the traffic crawls for miles in front of him, he spots Mabel and Ollie throwing Fruit Loops at each other to see who can catch the most in their mouth. And when he looks to his right, Eddie’s there — feet up on the dash, hands protectively clutching Ollie’s teddy bear as if he’s hoping it offers him the same comfort it does for the six-year-old — handsome as ever.
“Didn’t think I’d ever be back in one of these,” he says fondly. “Especially not with you behind the wheel.”
“Really?” Steve lets the corners of his lips twitch upward. Doesn’t try to fight the blush he knows is creeping across his cheeks. “‘Cause this is all I’ve thought about for years.”
#steddieweek2024#steddie#steddie fic#steddie ficlet#steve harrington#steve harrington fic#steve harrington ficlet#eddie munson#eddie munson ficlet#eddie munson fic#steve harrington/eddie munson#stranger things#stranger things fic#steddie week#dani writes
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Girl Of My Dreams — Mat Barzal
Summary: In which Mat Barzal inadvertently falls for the oldest Hughes sibling and her brothers aren’t happy.
Content Warning; Taylor swift 1989 isn’t by Tay(its by reader) Mentions of University of Alabama (reader went there) Trevor Zegras being hopelessly in love with reader. Readers social media face claim is Addison Rae bc idc she’d clear as a WAG for a athlete.
Pairing: Mat Barzal x Hughes! Reader.
Mat would be lying if he said he didn’t sneak glances at the announcers box after meeting you. You had been carrying a plate of food and two margaritas to your booth where your friends sat. Tito had made a joke about you seeming familiar then the pair heard your voice and knew, “Alright now, eat up because y’all are bumming me out.” Mat’s jaw slacked, “He’d known that the Islanders had gotten a new game announcer who was a girl but he wouldn’t have known it was you. You were effortlessly stunning, you had captivated the attention of every straight man in the bar. Mat had approached you as you sat at the bar, “I’m Mat, can I buy you a drink?”
You grinned and spoke, southern accent slipping out, “I’m Y/N, I mean Barzy after the way you played last game? You better buy me a drink. ‘Yknow how many hate comments my broadcast got?” Mat grinned as the bartender approached you, “Another Corona Light and whatever she’s having on me.” You grinned sheepishly, “I’m fucking with you. I’ve heard worse.” Mat grinned, “So now would probably be a shitty time to ask you out?” You smiled at him, “Maybe not.” Mat smiled, “If I may, your not from New York are you? Where are you from?” You grinned, “I grew up in Toronto with my 3 younger brothers and moved to Alabama for college and been in New York for a few months now.” Mat grinned, “Well welcome to New York beautiful.” That was a year and a half ago. You still hadn’t told your brothers who your boyfriend was, just that his name was Mathew. Until your album release came creeping in and you wanted to go public with Mat.
Instagram
ynhughes; my album ‘1997’ is now streaming! thank you for all your support(especially the bf, ‘slut’ and ‘suburban legends’ are 4 us)
barzal97: celebrating you is my favorite pastime. i have never met someone who people gravitate towards more than you. you are by far the most wonderfully amazing woman i know. it is a privilege to say i love you🤎 this past year or so has changed my life. you make living easy and so so much better. i can’t wait to see what the future has in store for you.
trevorzegras: alexa play that should be me💔💔
ynhughes: forever in awe of you mathew barzal. amazed a gal like me is lucky enough to be adored by you🤎
oliviarodrigo; THEY HIT THE PENTAGON!! @conangray
>conangray; told you it was them i saw at radio music hall!
ny_islanders; our roman empire is all the sweet posts for to y/n today🥹🥹
sydneyemartin: brb crying. the purest people in the world. so grateful my girls get to grow up seeing a love this pure that isn’t their parents.
>ynhughes: we adore your girls more than words can express.
_quinnhughes: my biggest inspiration is out here killing it. in awe of you everyday sissy🥹 thank you for being my best friend from day 1
ynhughes: in a puddle of tears quinny. thank you for always being on my side, even when im wrong.
sabrinacarpenter; hockey players making me ugly sob wasn’t on my 2023 bingo card
elhughes; my first babies🥹 extremely emotional over you all today
>_quinnhughes: we love you momma💕
jackhughes: 1997 reasons to love my meanie head sister, i guess her bf’s alright
ynhughes: i love you little brat, come visit me and mat!!
>jackhughes: will do, sissy🫡
trevorzegras: i can’t believe she won’t date me 😞😞
>ynhughes: buck up z, your way too young for me. perfect age for @sabrinacarpenter tho!
lukehughes: the worlds best big sister came out with the best album to date
ynhughes; really feeling the hughes love train today, i need to plan for all of us to be together soon! so y’all can meet Mat!
etnow; this just in; the Hughes brothers have brought tears to my eyes supporting their sister
barzal97: the third picture is actually the most accurate representation of your sister now
>lukehughes; always messing with those darn cats! even if they are on the side of the street.
#hockey player x reader#fanfic#hockey#nhl#nhl fanfiction#social media#jack hughes x reader#jack x reader#mat barzal x reader#mat barzal#hughes sister#1989 taylor's version#music#addison rae
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From Dusk Till Dawn
Carl and Y/N exploring an abandoned strip club... Bit of a plot, then sex. Everyone is 18 or over.
WARNINGS: smut, nsfw, oral (female receiving)
Tags: @lilyvaleska your request
You and Carl lingered boredly on the dusty road that led through the small town. There wasn't much happening on this scavenging trip - you had encountered a few walkers, but they hadn't posed a challenge, and now the main street lay completely deserted. There were a few stores - a pharmacy, a gun store, a small grocery store, and a kitchen supply store. The others were busy looting these places, and there wasn't much for you and Carl to do. Except to load the looted goods into the cars. "Look for antibiotics," you could hear Siddiq's voice from the pharmacy.
Carl yawned. "This could take a while," he scowled, fingers hooked in his belt, leaning casually against the car. His long hair fell into his forehead. It was hot, the sun was burning, and his shirt was already showing damp patches under his armpits.
"I'm so bloody hot," you grumbled. "Can't we go somewhere more shady?"
Carl looked around. "Over there, the bar, maybe?" he suggested. The front of the bar looked a little strange; it was painted in black and red, and the windows were taped with vinyl so you couldn't see inside. "From Dusk Till Dawn," was the name of the establishment. Hesitantly, you approached the entrance. Carl went in first, with his gun raised and securing in all directions. "Looks clear," he then announced. In the semi-darkness, you roamed the barroom. Here, too, the furnishings were odd - there were fluffy armchairs and discreetly separated alcoves; also a sort of stage with a pole. Carl headed for what used to be the bar, where quite a few dusty bottles littered around. "Jack Daniel's," he said delightedly, swinging one of the bottles. "Want some?" He had already spotted two glasses and poured them both full.
You chuckled. "What is this place, anyway?" you asked, glancing around and sipping your whiskey.
"Uuuum," Carl said awkwardly. "I think it was a strip club." Your mouth opened in shock. Carl emptied his glass. "Should we take a look over there?" He pointed to a few doors at the very rear of the establishment.
As it turned out, there were the restrooms, a storage room (with even more alcohol), and two strange-looking rooms. In the first room were several shelves of various sex toys - latex costumes, whips, masks, dildos and similar stuff were piled up. Carl grinned as he picked up some of the items. "Oh my God," he laughed. "Just take a look."
"Ah, I'd rather not," you rebuffed. "What's in there?" You pointed to the second door. Behind it was a room with a huge bed in the middle. The walls and ceiling of the room were completely mirrored. There was also a chair, and in one corner was an tipped-over box that contained condoms and towelettes. You spun around and looked at your reflection in the mirror as Carl caught you, hugged you, and pressed you against him, kissing you eagerly, his hands touching you under your top. "Carl," you squeaked, "what are you doing?" You had been together for a couple of weeks and had also had sex a few times, but always in your room or Carl's.
He peered over at the bed and then smirked as he took off his hat. "It would be something special to do it here," he whispered lustfully, licking your neck so that you shivered. " Are you up for it?"
A forbidden tingling sensation spread through your body as you nodded bashfully. Carl grabbed some condoms from the box and tossed them on the bed, then started undressing you. "What if someone walks in?" you asked uneasily.
"Wait," he pulled away from you and shoved the chair under the doorknob. Then he approached you again, his flanell and shirt dropped carelessly on the floor. You undid his belt and jeans, exposing him. Carl was already so aroused that his cock looked quite irritated; precum was dripping out and he was proudly standing erect. Carl's balls were slightly swollen. "Look how horny you drive me," he sighed, pressing himself against you, his hands roaming over your naked body. In the mirrors around you, you could see each other from all angles - Carl's hands sliding between your legs, and how you stroked his neck, and also how he pressed his pelvis against you in demand, rubbing his hard one against you.
Soaking wetness flooded your pussy, and you grabbed Carl by the hand and directed him over to the bed. It was covered with a sheet of rubber, and the material felt unusually cold against your skin. You were both so excited by now, though, that it didn't bother you - moaning, you rolled around on the bed, Carl burying his head between your legs to eat you out. "So wet," he moaned between kitten licks as you tugged on his hair and arched your back.
"Carl," you then pleaded. "I'm ready for you, please fuck me. Now." With glazed eyes you looked at him, trembling with desire.
Carl fumbled hastily with the condom, and the sight of it was just making you hornier. Finally he mounted you, and you willingly spread your legs for him as he now gently penetrated you and groaned. "It's so good," he murmured and began gentle thrusts, his breath hot against your ear. In the mirror above you, you could watch Carl moving on top of you, his sexy slender body, his back muscles tensing as he pounded into you, his firm ass. And your own hands stroking him incessantly, moving to his buttocks, animating him to rail you harder. Your fucked out face, cheeks flushed, lips parted.
Carl turned his head to look in the mirror next to the bed, moaning loudly at the sight of you with your legs wrapped around his slim hips, writhing ecstatically beneath him. He intensified his thrusts. "Oh, baby," he gasped. "I cannot hold it much longer. Are you cumming?"
"Yes," you whimpered, "Oh God, Carl, yes." Your pussy tightened even closer around Carl's cock as he brought you over the edge, and that led to Carl now cumming as well, thrusting into you moaning excessively as he rode out his orgasm and shot his load into the condom.
Dripping with sweat and breathless, you stayed lying together afterwards, kissing, until Carl got up to get some of the wet towelettes so you could clean yourselves. "I think we should go back out," he said then. "Not that they're searching for us." You picked up your clothes and tried to adjust your hair halfway. Your faces were still passionately flushed.
As you stepped out into the street, Daryl was leaning against one of the cars. "Where the fuck have you guys been?" he wondered. "Rick was already getting worried, he's been looking for you guys."
"Uum," Carl held up a half-full bottle of whiskey. "We found this."
Rick came over. "Carl, what are you doing?" he scolded angrily, snatching the bottle from Carl and tossing it into the back seat of the car. He sniffed. "You've been drinking," he then accused Carl. "You know how dangerous it is not to stay sober on a scavenging trip."
"Yeaaah," Carl groused defiantly. "It's okay."
"Get in the car," Rick snorted angrily as Daryl grinned.
#the walking dead#twd#carl grimes fanfiction#carl grimes x reader#carl grimes x y/n#carl grimes smut#carl fanfiction#carl grimes#carl grimes imagines
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Fall prompt!!!
I saw this one on another post: holding a ladder steady for the other one when they're trying to put something higher up
I figured could be decorating or getting decorations out?? I pictured our man Tim but would be cute with anyone!
Ah, I love this!! Thank you!🫶🏼🍂 0.8k+ words, fluff.
The smells of sweet pumpkin, mossy birch, and brown sugar greet you warmly as you kick Tim's door closed behind you. You huff as you shift your arms to keep a pillow from falling. With your focus on the bags and goodies stacked precariously in your arms, you don’t notice Tim walk out of the hallway or how his brows draw together as he looks at you.
“What is that?” he asks once you’ve saved the items in your hand from crashing to the floor.
You smile, as guilty as Tim thinks he’s ever seen you, as you shake the cup in your left hand. “A fall-flavoured drink?” you try.
“I figured. What’s the rest of it?”
“Okay, well…” you begin. “Help me set it down and then I’ll tell you?”
Tim’s brows raise as he shakes his head, and you punctuate your request with a “Please, handsome?” that has him crossing the room to transfer bags from your tired arms to the kitchen table.
Tim lifts a package of fake spiderwebs and repeats, “What is all this?”
“As you know, I went to get Kojo more food,” you begin. “But I went to a different store than usual, and when I walked in, they had all of the fall and Halloween decorations on display.”
“So, you bought them all?” Tim challenges, his eyes wide.
“No! Just enough to make this place look like someone actually lives here.”
“I thought ghost houses were cool in October,” Tim murmurs, peeking into one of the bags.
“Angela and Wesley give out full-sized candy bars on Halloween, and you take real spiderwebs down. Don’t use a ghost analogy to get out of this, Tim.”
Tim shakes his head at your passion for something as silly as decorating for fall. But he loves you, and you love this. Besides, he already lit the candle you got him. There's no going back at this point, he supposes.
“Where do we start?” he asks with a sigh.
You clap your hands together and smile as you answer. “Outside. Can you go get the ladder?”
“Reduced to an errand boy,” Tim grumbles as he turns away from you.
“Thank you!” you call after him. “I love you!”
“Okay,” you announce, rising from your squatted position after preparing the spiderwebs across Tim’s lawn. “Now we just use the hooks to secure them to the gutter.”
You step toward the ladder, and Tim catches your wrist before he shakes his head firmly.
“You hold the ladder, I’ll go up,” he says.
Nodding, you hand one end of the web to Tim before you step to his side and hold the ladder steady. Once he’s up, you move one step to your left to stand slightly behind him.
“Here?” he asks, raising the web where you said you wanted it.
“Perfect!” you reply, tightening your grip on the ladder. “Be careful.”
Tim doesn’t answer as he leans forward and secures the removable hook to his roofline. Once the web is hanging, he attaches another hook further down.
“Careful,” you warn again.
“Oh, the spiderwebs are cool but me turning into a zombie is a problem?” he jokes.
You fight to contain your laugh, but a giggle slips before you answer, “Seriously, Tim, don’t fall.”
He looks over his shoulder, smiles, and says, “You’ve got me.”
Curling your fingers tighter around the metal ladder, you nod. “Thanks for helping me. And agreeing to let me decorate your house.”
Tim steps off the ladder and lays his hands on your shoulders, brushing your hair away from your face. He leans toward you, then says, “Please don’t tell me you got one of those RIP headstones.”
“Ugh, no!” you exclaim. “We’re leaving the gaudy decorations to the house down the streets that gives out apple slices.”
Tim shakes his head, then kisses your forehead and steps back. “What next?”
“The flying bats. Oh, I forgot, I also have a few spiders to go on the webs, too.”
“Go grab the spiders and the pumpkins for the walkway,” Tim encourages.
After you return with more decorations, Tim climbs onto the ladder again, and you hold it as you watch him with nothing but gratitude, love, and admiration. Looking down quickly, you get an idea. With one hand still on the ladder, you grab a decoration you bought strictly to mess with Tim.
“Here, let me give you a hand,” you say.
Tim reaches down and takes your offered decoration without question. When he raises it and sees the prop severed hand, he exhales and asks, “Do you want me to jump off the ladder?”
He looks down at you, unable to keep his smile from growing to match yours.
“Who would watch all the fall football games with me then?” you question.
“It looks perfect,” you say, leaning against Tim’s side as you survey the beautiful mix of Halloween and fall decorations.
“You did good,” Tim replies, wrapping his arm around you.
“You did the heavy lifting.”
“And you held the ladder.”
You nod before Tim tilts his chin to kiss you. You’ll always be there for one another, even if it’s just holding a ladder.
#tim bradford blurb#tim bradford x reader#tim bradford fluff#hanna writes✯#hanna's blurbs#fem!reader#requests
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was wondering if you're okay writing an Angel Dust. M!Reader. More specifically Drag Angel Dust. I haven't seen anyone make these before so this is an original idea. A one-shot if perfect, but you can do whatever you want. You can do this as smut or fluff, it doesn't matter! Have a great rest of your day!!
One Of A Kind Show
Angel Dust x Male Reader
TW:A little spicy at the end!! So 18+ Only!!
A/N; Sorry this took so long! I’ve been getting over a sickness and it sucks ass. Hope you enjoy it, friend! Also I mixed it up with a little fic and then a little headcanons!
You looked down at your phone as you reread the text your boyfriend had sent you an hour ago with the location of his next Drag Show. You held the V.I.P ticket in your hand as you walked up to the door where the Hellhound bouncer was standing, lit cigarette between his lips. He put his hand up as you had walked up, “Ticket and I.D please,” He had gruffed out using his other hand to take his cigarette out blowing the smoke away from your face. You quickly pulled out your I.D and ticket, handing it to him. After handing it to him he looked at both items for a moment before you, what felt like hours was only mere seconds as he handed the items back to you.
“Alright you're good to go,” He replied before holding his arm out, “You can look but no touching,” with that he removed his arm and you quickly headed inside the building listening to the blaring music as you try to find a seat next to the stage after grabbing a drink from the bar. This was the first time you had been to one of Angel’s shows whilst dating, you had always gone to his shows before as a friend to show support. You got comfortable in the chair and watched as the lights dimmed and the music slowly faded out as the announcer started to talk, you couldn’t wait for whatever your boyfriend had in store for the night.
-🕷️ When Angel sees you actually sitting near the stage when he starts? His heart grows 3x times it was, he just wants to run over and smooch ya’
-🩷The whole time your eyes are on him and calling out for him when you can. He swears if he didn’t have to be doing this show he’d be dragging you somewhere else ;)
-🕷️Oh boy oh boy, after the show? He loves when you sneak (not really he got you the V.I.P pass for a reason) into the back and give him kisses, telling him how great he was.
-🩷 He will mostly be paying attention to you as he does his show. But he can’t play favorites (yet)
-🕷️Can and will drag you on stage to show everyone around that your his and he’s yours. Dance with him on stage and he’ll make it worth your while.
THIS IS WHERE THE NSFW MINORS SHOO 18+ ONLY!!!
-🩷 His favorite thing to do is drag you back to his private room and have some “fun” with you.
-🕷️ He’s usually a power bottom when you both decide to do the devils tango but when he’s in drag he’s the top. He will make you beg and tear up for him as he bends you over.
-🩷 Don’t worry the fun doesn’t end when you both go back to the hotel. Unless you want to take a breather or stop completely, he’s not a monster. That just means great aftercare and cuddles with his favorite boys!
#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel imagine#angel dust imagine#angel dust x you#angel dust x male reader#hazbin angel dust#angel dust x reader#male reader
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